


potions and curses

by amaelamin



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M, Magic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 08:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7610128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaelamin/pseuds/amaelamin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>alternative title: the chaser >.> harry potter AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> all the boys are the same age here.
> 
> originally posted on AFF 24 nov - 28 dec 2013.

“I really think we should start again,” Woohyun protested, looking disconsolately at the consistency of their own version of Dr. Ubbly’s Oblivious Unction. “I told you we should have let it stand longer before adding the arrowroot.” They both peered into their cauldron, sitting rather unimpressively in the middle of the stone bathroom floor. A tiny sound of water dripping could be heard in the silence as Woohyun sadly imagined his F in Potions stomping inevitably towards him. Remake a commercial potion currently on the market – didn’t sound too hard, but once you added Woohyun’s complete inability to do anything potions-related as well as Sungyeol the human jinx to the mix, everything became just that bit more complicated. He’d always thought that Gryffindors were hard-put to do well in Potions, which needed exact measurements; they just weren’t the type to be slow and steady or meticulous. He and Sungyeol were magnificent at classes like Transfiguration, Charms and DADA, where instinct and reflexes were paramount. Put them in a room with a pair of scales and a cauldron and they started to panic.

“It’s not _that_ far off,” Sungyeol said brightly, looking over at the original potion they’d gotten from the infirmary. “Just a bit thicker, that’s all. It’ll be fine.”

“Spending my Saturday afternoon with you in a damp bathroom. My idea of fun.” Woohyun grumbled to himself, transfiguring Sungyeol’s cast-off robe into a stool he could perch on. “Tomorrow, too.”

Sungyeol gave the cauldron a vigorous stir in hopes that the potion would start to loosen up and resemble more the light-purple medicine Madam Pomfrey had given them. He knew it didn’t look much like the intended result, but they’d already spent close to three hours in this sixth-floor boys’ bathroom – for easy cleanup if anything exploded (they’d learnt this the hard way after years of Potions projects gone wrong; one may very well wonder why they hadn’t learnt it sooner) – and his pride was weary of trying hard at something he knew he wasn’t going to score well on anyway. He hated Potions, but not nearly as much as Potions hated the both of them. “A lot of people would pay a lot of money to spend three hours in a deserted bathroom with me. Why tomorrow too?” he asked absentmindedly.

“Because we’ve done this wrong and we’ll need to redo it again tomorrow!” Woohyun nearly yelled. “ _And_  beg for more ingredients from Snape. Your turn this time.”

“Someone needs to try this. I’ll scissors-paper-stone you for it.” Sungyeol, ignoring Woohyun, scooped up a mouthful with his ladle and turned confidently to his project partner – who quickly hopped off his stool so full of indignance it looked like he was about to take flight with the force of it.

“We both agreed to try it together so don’t even think about weaseling out of this,” Woohyun scolded, jabbing him in the arm with a stubby finger. “Don’t. Even.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” Sungyeol muttered, quickly Banishing the leftover contents of a nearby cup so that he could ladle some of the potion into it. He pushed it over to Woohyun and ladled out another mouthful for himself, raising it to his lips, and then stood there expectantly. Woohyun stared.

“What are you doing?”

“What? We have to try it!” Sungyeol said impatiently.

“This isn’t a potion you drink, idiot!” Woohyun sunk his head into his hands in despair. “Why did I pair with you? Why did Dongwoo betray me for that lovely Ravenclaw – okay so I understand why he betrayed me but why wasn’t I fast enough to ask someone else before you sank your clutches into me? Why?”

Sungyeol glared, unimpressed. “Are you done?”

“No, but if I drink that I will be,” Woohyun shot back. “We’re supposed to apply it _topically_. You haven’t done any of your research at all, have you?”

“Yes, I have!” Sungyeol retorted. “For example, I know that this potion is supposed to cure psychological trauma, right? So how are we supposed to know if it works if neither of us has any psychological trauma? Didn’t think of _that_ , did you?”

Woohyun blinked. “You’re right,” he said in a tone of awe. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Hah!” Sungyeol crowed.

“But I’m sure I have to have at least some kind of trauma from being your best friend for the last five years of my life,” Woohyun continued.

“Good, then we can test it on you,” Sungyeol said smoothly, grabbing his chance. “Come here.”

They ended up smearing it on both their right arms and stubbornly waiting ten minutes in expectation for something to happen before Woohyun gave up and admitted that they really hadn’t thought this through.

“I’ll just go see if I can find a homemade recipe for one of the Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes’ joke potions,” he said wearily, changing his stool back into Sungyeol’s robe. Sungyeol rolled his eyes and Banished the rest of the potion as Woohyun tidied up the rest of their things. “Good riddance,” he grumbled, adding making him waste three hours in a damp bathroom to the list of Things He Would Never Let Nam Woohyun Forget.

*

“I want only one student from each House in each project group. Except Slytherin – two groups will have to have two Slytherins because there’s an uneven number in this class. Part of your final grade will come from the assessments your groupmates give you, so remember why we started having combined-House DADA lessons in the first place – _teamwork_ ,” Professor Lupin said, light warning tone unmistakable.

Woohyun immediately grabbed Dongwoo’s arm and slid closer to him on their shared bench, leaving a wide space between him and Sungyeol.

“I will kill you!” Sungyeol hissed at him. “Dongwoo! Don’t leave me! Woohyun’s useless, take me instead!”

“Only one student from each House in each group,” Woohyun repeated back at him, smiling beatifically. “My prayers to Merlin to finally be rid of you have been answered.” Dongwoo shrugged sympathetically, and then turned his attention to getting his lovely Ravenclaw into their group – only to see Sungyeol scramble frantically out of his seat in order to reach her first, where she sat a row over.

“Hi,” Sungyeol said, slightly breathless as he screeched to a halt in front of her, her surprised friends bursting into giggles. “I see you pretty ladies are in need of a Gryffindor.” He beamed as she rolled her eyes, scooting over anyway so that he could sit down next to her. Sungyeol sent a wink over Dongwoo’s way, making himself comfortable in a group that eventually turned out, to his delight, to be all-female.

Dongwoo glared. “Remind me never to cross Sungyeol in future,” he muttered to Woohyun. “Let’s just get Sungjong for our Ravenclaw then, looks like we’re going to need him.”

They ended up with all their required houses when two Slytherins standing awkwardly by were added into their group by Professor Lupin, noting how reluctant they were to actively ask the others if they could join them.

“Hello. I’m Kim Sunggyu, and he’s Lee Howon,” one of them said, his lack of familiarity with the others making him unintentionally formal as they gathered round in a cluster. He looked like he didn’t know whether to stick out his hand for them to shake or not, while Howon just nodded and gave them a short wave in greeting. “Aren’t you both Gryffindors?”

“Us?” Woohyun asked, looking at Dongwoo when he realized the question was aimed at them. “No, actually, he’s a Huff. We just hang out together a lot. We’ve got all the houses here, don’t worry.”

“It was easier to recognize people when everyone was required to wear house colours everywhere,” Howon offered in the awkward silences that attended the initial forming of every randomly-selected project group, ever. The others nodded readily in agreement, even as Sungjong gave the expected reply they all already knew that it was better for whole-school solidarity, so on and so forth. They all nodded readily at that, too.

“O-kay, so,” Woohyun said after another minute of silence and fidgeting. Sungjong already looked bored. “Research on a category of curses of our choosing. Anyone got any ideas yet?”

The others gratefully began to talk shop, glad that the semblance of small talk was over.

Dongwoo looked sadly over to where Sungyeol was seated as a wave of feminine laughter broke out, and sighed. He really, really hated group projects, and sixth year was turning out to be full of them.

**

“So what are you doing for your project?” Woohyun asked Sungyeol as they jogged down the steps from their third-floor DADA classroom, knowing that Sungyeol wouldn’t be mad over a trivial thing like having to choose a new group because Woohyun’d already claimed Dongwoo. This was probably why they got along so well; they got each other into so much trouble all the time that if either one of them was easily offended they’d have hexed each other to the moon by now.

“We’re thinking about curses that affect reality perception,” Sungyeol answered easily, proving Woohyun right about him not being mad about their project groups. “My girls” – he paused to preen a little – “are ridiculously intelligent. They were throwing terms around I’ve never heard before in my life. Why do girls still waste their time with boys when they’re so smart and we’re so dumb?”

“Because we’re cute?” Woohyun offered.

“Maybe in my case. Yours, not so much. What about your group?”

“We couldn’t decide,” Woohyun groaned, letting the jab at his looks slide as one of the thousand daily exchanged insults that were the hallmark of their mutually supportive friendship. “We just couldn’t come up with something that everyone was interested in or thought was feasible enough to do. And those two Snakes are seriously intense. One of them has eyes so small I couldn’t tell if he was glaring at me or if he just didn’t agree with whatever was being discussed. Halfway through Dongwoo and the friendlier one, or at least the one with bigger eyes, discovered they both like Muggle music and so we lost them for the rest of the period. Basically the only thing we managed to do was find out everyone’s names, and thoroughly annoy Sungjong. I think he may be going to ask Lupin if he can change groups.”

“Hah, you better pray he doesn’t because he’s your only hope,” Sungyeol said, inhaling deep as they finally emerged out into the sun from the cool dark of the castle. “Plus, you’re not stealing _my_ Ravenclaw, even if I’d get Sungjong in return. Dongwoo has amazing taste in girls.”

This was their routine after every Friday DADA lesson – Woohyun walked Sungyeol down to the Quidditch grounds to spend an hour or two watching him zoom around on his broom as Woohyun relaxed on the bleachers; they treasured this time even more now that they were in their sixth year, because everything academic had been pushed up a notch or three million. More and more homework and tests seemed to fall from the sky the moment they finished studying for one exam or finished writing foot after foot of parchment about everything from the Uprising of Elfric the Eager (“What _even_ ,” Woohyun had complained) to the exact effect Jobberknoll feathers had on memory potions (“You put them in. The potion works. The end.” Sungyeol had contemplated writing, and then decided that Snape’s scathing derision would be too hard to bear). Sungyeol cherished dearly the time he had to play Quidditch, especially because the knowledge that his time at Hogwarts was soon coming to an end was starting to weigh on him. Barely two more years, and they’d be out on their own in the world.

Woohyun let his bookbag drop onto the grass and propped his head up on the bleacher next to him, digging through his bag for the sandwich he’d saved from lunch to munch on as he flipped through a comic one of his Muggle-born housemates had lent him. Sungyeol headed off to the Gryffindor locker rooms to fetch his broom and a bludger to get in some practice before the season’s trainings actually started and work off steam from the school week. He let go the bludger once he was ready and kicked off into the sky, Woohyun watching him until he was nothing but a tiny speck. Some people, like Sungyeol, liked sports; Woohyun preferred the sport of Looking Handsome While Doing Nothing.

Sungyeol was a chaser on the Gryffindor team – he wasn’t a Quidditch prodigy, but he worked hard and worked well with his other two chasers such that they were a force to be reckoned with. This season was unpredictable, though, because all four houses had had integral team players who’d graduated last year and so there wasn’t any team that could be said to be the clear frontrunner; seasons like these where anything could happen were the ones Sungyeol loved the best.

He ducked and soared to escape the bludger; feinting and working on hairpin turns to avoid the bludger’s own unwieldy cannonball accuracy. _It wouldn’t do to get my ribs bashed in just before the first few games of the year_ , he thought belatedly. _Maybe I should have enchanted it to go slower_. He grunted as he wrenched his broom into a roll, already sweating from the effort and unreservedly enjoying the feeling of being one with his broom, it following his lead a fraction of a second after he’d decided what to do. He could never understand why Woohyun chose to stay on the ground when sheer exhilaration like this awaited him in the sky.

A strange feeling overcame him so subtly he couldn’t have pinpointed, later, when it had started – slowly, he became aware of not being alone. He turned his head to the right to find another player about thirty metres away and behind him mimicking his moves; feinting when he feinted, accelerating when he did, all a split-second after him.

When the other boy realized that Sungyeol had noticed him, he raised an acknowledging hand to wave mid-flight; and that one moment of inattention was enough for the bludger to seize its chance. The boy moved quickly once he saw the bludger hurtling his way, but while it missed his body it clipped his broom and Sungyeol didn’t have time to register the secondhand shock and panic that crashed over Sungyeol as the boy began to fall; shock and panic that intensified his own.

Sungyeol dove immediately, urging his broom on to catch the boy before he hit the ground, but Woohyun beat him to it. He caught the boy and the bludger in an expertly-cast Immobulus charm; Sungyeol felt a glow of pride for his best friend’s skill – and lowered them both gently to the ground, the boy’s broom only belatedly following a few minutes later.

Sungyeol jumped off his broom and crouched down next to Woohyun and the boy, now sitting up. He felt echoes of concern that melded with his own, mixed with confusion and heart-thumping adrenaline – shaking his head to try and clear it, he focused on the boy.

“You’re the Hufflepuff seeker,” he said, surprised at the waves of gratitude tinged with embarrassment he could feel washing off the boy. “You’re in our year, aren’t you?”

“Some seeker, getting un-broomed before the first game is even played,” the Huff nodded shakily, cheeks tinged with pink at having to be saved. “Thank you, though. I mean it. I was just trying to see how fast I could follow you – I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have butted in without asking you first.”

“At least you’re okay,” Woohyun said, sitting back onto the grass. “But, you know, now that you owe us Gryffindors a favour for saving your life...”

“You know you’re going to have to throw the first game you have against us, right?” Sungyeol said solemnly.

“What?” the boy asked, sudden uncertainty flowing off him as he looked from Woohyun to Sungyeol, who was trying his best to look menacing.

“I mean, if you don’t let us win, we could tell everyone how Hufflepuff’s seeker had to be rescued by a Gryffindor because he was _too slow_  to get out of the way of a bludger,” Woohyun continued, evil twinkle in his eye as he whistled. “I mean, damn. That’s got to be bad for house confidence, right?”

The boy looked in disbelief between the two of them a few more times before it clicked, and then his annoyance all but hit Sungyeol in the face. “Assholes!” he complained, but without any real rancour as Woohyun helped him to his feet, laughing.

“Sorry,” Sungyeol offered, grinning. The boy rolled his eyes and picked up his broom.

“I’m going to look forward to crushing you when the season starts,” he said, leaning cockily against his broom.

“Not if we crush you first,” Sungyeol retorted, eyebrows raised challengingly.

“I’m Myungsoo,” the boy smiled. “Remember the name.” He kicked off, and his thrill as he took to the air engulfed Sungyeol for an exhilarating minute before he realized the emotion he was feeling was not his own.

Sungyeol frowned. _That was strange_.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you were wondering:
> 
> sungjong - ravenclaw. this seems a no-brainer for me; i know most people would put him in slytherin but i don't really see that in him. he seems really intelligent and observant about the world; his 'adult ceremony' performance suggests to me that he not only understands very well the image of himself that he puts forward but also gender performance within the idol industry and that is a level of intelligence and clarity of thought i've never come across in an idol before. he's also fearless, which seems to stem from him being really secure in himself and where he stands.
> 
> dongwoo and myungsoo - hufflepuff. another no-brainer. they're both so incredibly cuddly and have so much love and loyalty for the people around them, and are clearly 'unafraid of toil' [it's scary how well i know the sorting hat's song ok without having to look it up] since they're both so hardworking - dongwoo with his dancing and myungsoo with working so hard at his singing and acting both of which still need work ahem and both just generally with the whole crazy idol thing. i feel like myungsoo and dongwoo are the easiest to relate to because they both wear their hearts on their sleeves and seem like the kind to give of themselves very selflessly. it's also worth noting that in the books hufflepuff was the only house where every student stayed to fight in the battle of hogwarts - just because they're cuddly doesn't mean they're soft, which i think is true for these two as well.
> 
> sunggyu and howon - slytherin. very obviously ambitious, and they both live to perform. they're willing to endure anything to get what they want, even to the point of leaving home and family under negative circumstances to achieve their dreams. they both also are capable of being harsh and sharp with the others [sunggyu more so in this i think] though i don't believe that slytherins are necessarily 'bad'. it just means that they're willing to do unconventional things to get what they want and that may not be what straightforward and impulsive gryffindors [since it seems to be always gryffindor pitted against slytherin as polar opposites] would choose to do. this is one thing i disagreed heavily with the books and movies on, because it seemed like they needed to make one house the 'villain' and instead of making the slytherin character more rounded [read: interesting and complex] they settled for mainly bigoted, rich and immoral.
> 
> sungyeol and woohyun - gryffindor. impulsive, larger-than-life bundles of energy that will, i think, do anything to protect the ones they love. i also get the feeling that they are very bad at lying - or don't see the point of it - and it's very important to them to be true and loyal to their goals and loved ones, which is why they work so hard for themselves and one another. this is more a gut feeling than something i reasoned out at length, i have to admit, but they seem to fit the category of 'lionheart' so well.


	2. Chapter 2

“But why isn’t it feasible-“

“It’s just too broad. You’d have to spend a lot of time outlining the effects and considering the effects overlap the realms of physical, mental, and emotional and we only have ten minutes for our presentation there’s no way we’re going to be able to cover everything satisfactorily.”

“We don’t have to cover everything!“

“Woohyun, he’s right,” Sungjong cut in curtly.

Woohyun scratched again at his itching right arm, frowning to find Sunggyu’s narrow-eyed stare on him. They were in the middle of yet another fruitless project discussion in one of the empty fourth-floor classrooms, and Sunggyu had shot down all his suggestions with honestly reasonable objections, not that Woohyun would ever admit it. They’d already been here more than an hour and the lack of progress had everyone on edge; Sunggyu’s displeased face wasn’t helping the fact that Woohyun could be fooling around with Sungyeol in Gryffindor Tower pulling pranks on someone or just doing anything else in the world that didn’t involve schoolwork right now.

“Do you have to glare at me like that? I mean, why are your eyes so small? You’re quite good-looking, I can see that, but your entire face would be helped along tremendously if only your eyes were maybe a centimeter or so bigger.”

The others turned to Woohyun in almost comic sync, all discussion having ground to a halt the moment Woohyun had spoken. Woohyun clapped a hand to his mouth, gobsmacked. He’d only meant to think it, not say it out loud – maybe only to Sungyeol, later, privately, when he could bitch to his heart’s content about dumb Sunggyu and his reasonable objections making him look stupid in front of Sungjong, whose omniscience Woohyun worshipped – but he’d heard the words as they’d left his mouth as if from outside his own body and he was powerless to stop himself.

“There’s nothing I can do about the size of my eyes,” Sunggyu ground out, tone icy as Howon pursed his lips together in a blatant attempt not to burst out laughing. “And if I’m glaring, it’s because your stupidity is shining a little bit too brightly in here.” Sungjong turned away, smirk on his face, while Dongwoo looked lost at this sudden turn of events.

“Guys, please-“

“Stupidity?” Woohyun repeated in indignation, shock at what he’d just unintentionally blurted out be damned. “At least I’m trying to come up with something here. All you’re doing is just sitting there shooting down our suggestions with your small eyes!”

“There needs to be quality control, or else we’ll end up having to start again halfway when we all realize how undoable the project is. And stop talking about my eyes!” Howon epically lost the battle of the giggles with a loud guffaw, and Woohyun turned on him, annoyance filling him to the roots of his hair and determined to spread it around.

“And you! All you do is stare at Sungjong while you’re pretending to talk to Dongwoo!”

Sungjong turned back with eyebrows raised in interest while Dongwoo and Sunggyu’s jaws both dropped. Howon’s laughter had turned abruptly into choking.

“What? When did I-”

Woohyun clapped both hands over his mouth this time. He hadn’t even meant to say that – he was going to say something about how Howon’s teeth looked like fangs or whatever even if he knew that wasn’t even near insulting, but he was frustrated and his damn arm wouldn’t stop itching and it all made him want to act like a five-year old and things kept coming out of his mouth that he had been thinking but didn’t even want to say –

Why was his right arm itching? The knut dropped, depositing itself neatly in Woohyun’s mind, and he stood up without preamble.

“I have to go. I’m sorry – I’m sorry.”

Woohyun grabbed his things and bolted, leaving the four other boys behind; two confused, one smug, and one extremely embarrassed.

*

Sungyeol rolled over onto his side in bed, reliving the soaring emotions of the day before in the sleepy warm of post-waking; Myungsoo’s sheer joy at being in the air bonding with his own, adrenaline heightened by the adrenaline of another – something only someone who truly loved flying would understand or feel. Sungyeol still could not explain it, and was tempted to dismiss it as just another one of the inexplicable things that happened daily at Hogwarts. Maybe a spell had been cast on the pitch earlier that had something to do with the sharing of emotion and he had been experiencing the dregs of it – whatever it was, it had been thrilling to feel the exhilaration of another. It was like distilled emotion, concentrated so that it filled his body with the simple and true delight of it, just like the boy’s – Myungsoo’s – shock at being knocked off his broom had kickstarted Sungyeol into his nosedive because it had felt like a bodyslam. The intensity of it was addictive.

He rubbed his right arm against the comforter, too lazy to scratch the itching skin with his fingers, as he became aware of a feeling of alarm that was not his own building in intensity – but before he could question that train of thought Woohyun burst in on him.

“Sungyeol! Dr Ubbly’s Oblivious Unction!”

Sungyeol wasn’t paying attention, because he was amazed at the fact that he could still feel someone else’s emotions. He’d come home yesterday with Woohyun, had a quick supper and then went to bed; no-one else had really been about in their Tower, and he’d attributed the general buoyancy at dinner he felt to his usual after-flying endorphins, not the contentedness of the people around him enjoying a good meal. This was amazing!

“I can feel what you’re feeling, Woohyun,” he said excitedly, sitting up in bed.

“What?” Woohyun asked, brought up short.

“I’m serious. You’re scared for some reason, right? Am I right?”

Woohyun ignored him and made his way over to grab Sungyeol’s right arm. “Does your arm itch?”

“Yeah, a little, woke up that way. Why?”

“I just had the weirdest project meeting of my life,” Woohyun climbed onto Sungyeol’s bed, forcing Sungyeol to make space. “My arm just wouldn’t stop itching, and I started saying all these crazy things that I guess were in my head but I never ever intended to say out loud. Like, I told you I kind of suspected Howon had an eye for Sungjong, which is understandable because Sungjong’s gorgeous, but I would never in my right mind have blurted it out in front of the entire project group. And I did. Oh gods, Howon could have decked me. And it was like I could almost feel myself going to do it but there was no way I could have stopped it. And I said even more stuff about Sunggyu’s small eyes, and totally confronted him in front of everyone telling him his eyes were keeping him back from being really handsome. What the absolute hell! I didn’t even know I thought he was handsome until I said it.”

“My power is totally cooler,” Sungyeol said, after Woohyun was done, taking everything in stride. “I can feel what other people near me are feeling.”

“What?” Woohyun asked, raising his head from where he’d dropped it into his hands in frustration. “Seriously?”

“That has to be the only explanation, since you’re suddenly Honesty Guy and both our right arms are itching where we put on the potion to test it. Yesterday, when I was flying? I could feel Myungsoo’s emotions. How happy he was to be flying, then his panic when he was falling, and his embarrassment after that when we were teasing him. I didn’t really think much of it at the time ‘cos his feelings more or less mirrored my own, but then I could feel your alarm as you came in here. I’m psychic!” Sungyeol finished happily, the realization dawning on him. “Oh, Merlin! I’m psychic! I could make a fortune out of this!”

“You don’t know things, stupid, you can just feel what people are feeling. How is that going to make you any money?” Woohyun retorted, distracted for a moment. “We don’t even know if this is going to last. Wait, I need to be sure. Ask me something and I’ll try to lie about it.”

Sungyeol contemplated Woohyun as he sat at the foot of Sungyeol’s bed, small grin blooming on his face. “A part of you finds Snape really, really hot.” Sungyeol was expecting the kick Woohyun immediately aimed at his crotch, and defended his family jewels with a pillow just in time. Hey, nobody could say those Chaser reflexes never came in handy in real life.

“I said that when I was young and impressionable!” Woohyun near-yelled, cheeks flushing pink. “You aren't supposed to be using this against me and I can’t help it if I like to be dominated! – Oh, gods,” he dropped his head into his hands again in mortification, Sungyeol almost falling off the bed in glee.

Sungyeol crowed non-verbally in delight. “Oh, this is too much. What would you like Snape to do to you?”

Woohyun’s head snapped up. “You bastard!”

“No, waitwaitwait, don’t tell me, I don’t need those mental images in my life-”

“I kissed Matilda Highfoot,” Woohyun said suddenly, and then quickly covered his mouth. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately, he thought wryly. Sungyeol gasped, looking scandalized.

“Matilda? When? Why are you only saying this now?”

“Who knows why this stupid potion is making me tell people all my private-st thoughts? It was two months ago during summer vacation. We live near each other, you know that. We were invited to some party and we’d both been drinking – you know I’ve always thought she was pretty! I walked her home and kissed her.”

Sungyeol got to his knees, trying to tower over Woohyun intimidatingly. “And why was I never told this?”

“I was ashamed, okay? It never should have happened. Plus the fact that if you ever opened your big fat mouth about it and Darius found out it would mean the end of me.”

“You have put me in a very difficult position, Nam,” Sungyeol said, pretending to muse. “My best friend on one hand, and my Quidditch captain’s future happiness with his girlfriend on the other. Who to betray? Who to protect?”

Woohyun hit him. “Shut up, Lee. It never went further than that and she avoided me for a full month after. This is exactly why I never told you!”

“I’m actually hurt,” Sungyeol said, after a moment’s contemplation. “You know I wouldn’t have told anyone else.”

“Yeah, well,” Woohyun looked down at Sungyeol’s comforter. “I guess I was just too ashamed I’d done something like that. I just wanted to forget it.”

“The waves of shame and regret coming off you now are making my stomach heavy. Stop it, I still love you,” Sungyeol said, rubbing his tummy.

“You’re not mad?” Woohyun asked, brightening a little. He put out his fist, and Sungyeol bumped it twice in their not-so-secret handshake.

“Okay, so down to business. How to get rid of this? And, come to think of it, why are we experiencing different things?”

“To know that we’d need to know exactly what went wrong with the potion, which is the exact reason why we hate potions,” Sungyeol deadpanned. “It’s the weekend. Let’s just hope it wears off, and I’ll tell your project group I hexed you or something, to cover up you being weird. Any future weirdness will be on your own head and out of my control, however.”

Woohyun shrugged. It sounded good to him.

“Speaking of potions, start researching what new thing we can remake,” Sungyeol said, heaving himself out of bed. “We still need to hand in something. Or maybe you want Snape to get mad? All intense and sexy dark eyes and intimidating stare?”

“Maybe you want to die?” Woohyun asked, comfortably taking Sungyeol’s place in bed and not intending to begin researching anything at all. “Where are you going?”

“Quidditch!” Sungyeol threw over his shoulder, heading to the showers.

*

Sungyeol adored the first training of the season – getting together with the whole team again and getting to know the new players, watching everyone feel their way into their positions, feeling the sky-high morale and excitement; and this year was even better, because they’ll be trying out for a new seeker.

As a chaser he’d sometimes felt a bit jealous of the seeker – hardly anyone remembered all the chasers or the beaters’ names, but everyone knew who the seeker was. The rest of them did the hard work, but the seeker just needed to find the snitch and all the glory and hero-worship was theirs.

Sungyeol knew he wasn’t being fair, since the seeker usually had to contend with horrible fouling as a result of their importance to the game. Still wouldn’t hurt to have a fanclub in my name like our previous seeker, though, he grinned to himself. Hooking his broom from its bolts he got to his feet, stamping them a few times to adjust the fit of his boots. The first uniformed training of each year always made him want to puff up like a balloon with pride.

He made his way out of the locker room, and came face to face with Kim Myungsoo.

“Hi,” Myungsoo said easily, smiling. “Surprised?” Sungyeol looked round, eyebrows raised. Surely not?

Darius, the Gryffindor captain clapped his hands for attention.

“As you can see, we’re not alone today. I understand some of you may not like this, but seeing as we’re without a seeker and public trials will not be held for at least a week yet, Hufflepuff have graciously allowed us to borrow theirs – obviously, they’re the only house who would. He will be training with us for two or three days before we choose a seeker. What I want to do today is try out the chasers on the team for the position before we hold public trials – in case we can’t find anybody, at least one of us who knows the team and the game well will be a good-enough stand-in. The rest of us will start on drills. Kyung, take over.”

Darius brought the three chasers and Myungsoo to the far side of the pitch, and gave very simple instructions – keep up with Myungsoo. Myungsoo coughed self-consciously, and Sungyeol could feel slight pulses of embarrassment coming from him, as well as apprehension mixed with confidence from his other two teammates. Even though Hufflepuff wasn’t as instinctively competitive as Slytherin, or coldly calculating as Ravenclaw, Myungsoo still had his house pride riding on his shoulders, as did the Gryffindors – all four of them were thinking the exact same thing; don’t be left behind.

Myungsoo kicked off into the air and sped away, Sungyeol and the others at his heels. They were all using their own brooms, and at the back of his mind Sungyeol noticed the extra-neat twigs of Myungsoo’s broom; he had clearly taken great care to groom it before today’s training. The almost-familiar white-hot exhilaration emanating from Myungsoo engulfed Sungyeol like a second skin, frission running up and down his veins as the adrenaline from his teammates urged him on even faster.

Myungsoo dipped and soared and rolled, turning quickly into dives that became wide spins; Sungyeol had to admire his skill. Myungsoo’s athleticism was deceptive – you wouldn’t think it if you saw him on the ground, but he moved like lightning in the air. Gryffindor will have a hard time matching this, Sungyeol thought. Try as he might, he was always just a few metres and a second behind Myungsoo.

Darius yelled them down a few minutes later, not giving away what he was thinking from their display. They dropped to the grass, all panting with the exertion; Sungyeol was glowing in the rush – his own, and that of Myungsoo who happened to be sitting the closest to him. His other chasers got up after they’d caught their breath to rejoin their team, but Sungyeol lingered.

“You’re amazing,” he said simply. “That’s a real gift.”

Myungsoo grinned. “If I manage to stay on my broom, it will be.” He used the hand Sungyeol was holding out to him to pull himself up, and they walked back to the others together.

They spent the rest of the afternoon doing drills, looping around one another and passing the quaffle to get back in the swing of things, Myungsoo darting in between and over and under them in order to tune their reflexes. Sungyeol stole snatches of excitement and alarm, joy and fatigue as his teammates passed him, but exhilaration, always exhilaration from Myungsoo. It was utterly endearing.

“You’ve got moony eyes,” Woohyun told him suspiciously when he got back from training an hour later, throwing himself into an armchair in the common room before working up the energy to go have a bath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sungyeol said, tipping his head back to rest it on the back of his chair, the smile Myungsoo had given him as he’d waved goodbye still fresh in his mind.

Woohyun snorted. “As if you can fool me. Nevermind, I can wait. You’ve never been able to keep something like this to yourself, anyway.”

Sungyeol hummed non-commitally, enjoying the first few warm rays of having a crush seep into him. The thought that he had another training on Tuesday filled him with ridiculous goodwill towards all men.

“Stop smiling to yourself, idiot, it’s creepy,” Woohyun told him, kicking him in the shin.

*

 


	3. Chapter 3

“So who’s your crush on?” Woohyun tried to ask casually as they joined the throng of hungry teenagers making their way towards breakfast like moths to a flame.

“What makes you think I have a crush?” Sungyeol answered just as casually, enjoying seeing Woohyun just dying inside to know.

Woohyun just settled for punching him not-very-lightly in the back. “Anyway, has the potion worn off yet? I haven’t felt the need to divulge any secrets this morning and my arm stopped itching yesterday. What am I feeling right now?”

“Hungry?” Sungyeol tried, as his stomach gave a rumble.

“That’s not a feeling,” Woohyun said, furrowing his brow. “There’s Dongwoo. Try him.”

Dongwoo beamed from where he was waiting as they approached, slinging his arms over the two of them (he had to tiptoe slightly on Sungyeol’s end) as they entered the Great Hall and was treated to the spectacular sight of food as far as the eye could see. They had experienced this three times a day, every day of the school term for the past five years and yet the tables almost groaning with the weight of delicious food on them still never got old. Professor McGonagall had recently and very cleverly come up with the idea of giving them food from all around the world every Sunday as a means of getting them interested in other cultures and their magic given that more and more students from other ethnicities had started attending Hogwarts; and so last Sunday for their first international breakfast they’d all had exquisite bentos full of beautifully-executed dishes. It had meant a lot of unfamiliar fumbling with chopsticks for those not used to them, and Sungyeol had no idea where the house-elves had learned to cook Japanese cuisine, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. The few Japanese students among them had become mini-celebrities, having to answer questions about the food and how it was made, along with entreaties to teach the others how to make some of the dishes. Having delicious things to eat ensured their attention in Charms and History of Magic when their teachers introduced spells and magical events from the country of the week.

Today, the smell of kimchi hit them before they could register which country’s cuisine it was, and the three of them stopped short in amazement.

“Kimchi jjigae!” An impassioned cry came from their left, and they turned to see Myungsoo – Sungyeol’s stomach did a tiny flip-flop – possessively surveying the table in front of him, laid out with bowls of the steaming-hot stew, gleaming white rice and innumerable side dishes.

“I think I’m going to cry,” Dongwoo whispered, as the scent of bulgogi wafted towards them.

“I _think_ Dongwoo’s really happy,” Sungyeol told Woohyun, who had ceased to pay attention to him.

They sat down almost in a dream at the same table as Myungsoo, other Koreans in the hall already sitting and munching away with gusto while the other students inspected the food with interest. Woohyun picked up a mouthful of kimchi and tears came to his eyes as he chewed.

“It’s better than my mother’s,” he whispered.

The first ten minutes or so of breakfast was spent in silence as they stuffed themselves with everything they could reach, Sungyeol half-watching Myungsoo down the table finish his kimchi jjigae in record time before reaching for another bowl.

“This is the best day of my life,” Dongwoo said in between mouthfuls. “The only thing that could make it better right now was if a certain someone from Ravenclaw would say yes to going out with me.”

“Speaking of a certain someone,” Woohyun put down his spoon, then picked it up again to take one more bite of his rice as if he was afraid it would disappear if he neglected it for too long. “Our Sungyeollie’s in love.”

“I am not _in love_ ,” Sungyeol tried to say around his mouthful of japchae. “I just think this person’s really awesome and I like being around them.”

“Which could turn into love,” interjected Woohyun, not willing to back down. “Unless the person, whoever it is, rejects you and your pasty face.”

“How is my face pasty? Dongwoo, am I pasty?”

“You are quite pale, but I wouldn’t call you pasty,” Dongwoo told him, eyeing a plate of tteokbokki. “Do you think we could pack some of this for later?”

“Here, Myungsoo,” Woohyun called out, nearly giving Sungyeol a heart attack. Myungsoo looked up and across at them, smiling when he noticed who’d called his name. “Do you think Sungyeol is pasty?”

“What?” Myungsoo laughed, eyes on Sungyeol. Sungyeol prayed not to blush. “I mean, his skin’s fair, but I wouldn’t say he was pasty. Is someone trying to win a bet?”

“No, we’re talking about the chances of him getting shot down by his mystery crush because he looks like a rice cake.” Woohyun prattled on. “I think it’s someone from his Quidditch team. He came back yesterday after training smiling to himself like a loony.”

 _Just kill me now_ , Sungyeol thought. _Trust Woohyun to do something like this_. Myungsoo’s face was bright, though, and the delight with which he was eating was making Sungyeol want to squish something.

“Since when were you guys friends?” Dongwoo asked, looking between Woohyun and Myungsoo.

“Oh, you know, we just casually saved his life the other day,” Woohyun said airily. Myungsoo rolled his eyes, but continued smiling.

“My heroes,” he said, sarcastically. “I fell off my broom while flying, and the pasty one tried to catch me, but that other one used Immobulus to bring me down safely.”

“’That other one’?” Woohyun pouted as Dongwoo turned to them with huge eyes. Sungyeol was still stuck on Myungsoo’s grin as he called Sungyeol ‘the pasty one’. It really, really didn’t help that Myungsoo had a face that would fit right in in a convention of Veelas.

“You never even said anything! I would have taken it very hard if Myungsoo had died,” Dongwoo said sincerely, making Myungsoo laugh and Woohyun shake his head fondly.

“He’s a really nice guy, and he’s going to help us crush you Reds this season,” he carried on innocently, finally losing the war with his full-to-bursting stomach and spooning some tteokbokki onto his plate. Myungsoo made an incoherent noise of affirmation while Sungyeol stole Dongwoo’s spoon and chopsticks in retaliation, effectively stopping him from being able to eat his tteokbokki.

Myungsoo left a short while later with a few of his housemates, turning back to wave and look over his shoulder at them as he got up from the table to go.

“See you Tuesday, _Red_ ,” grinning, Myungsoo called out to Sungyeol, Dongwoo egging him on with a little made-up-on-the-spot song about Myungsoo the Hufflepuff Seeker of Awesomeness.

“Yeah, see you, _Huff_ ,” Sungyeol replied, trying to put as much I-wish-I-had-a-reason-to-see-you-every-day into his answering smile.

“Oh?” Woohyun piped up with interest, poking Dongwoo to turn his attention away from his tteokbokki and to Sungyeol. “Look. The moony eyes are back.”

Woohyun and Dongwoo looked at a still-smiling Sungyeol, and then at Myungsoo’s retreating back.

“ _Ohh_ ,” Woohyun breathed as Dongwoo started laughing.

*

The itching had indeed gone away, and Woohyun no longer was in danger of seriously offending the people around him by blurting out unwelcome facts about themselves or himself. Sungyeol had also lost the ability to share the emotions of those he was near to, which left him feeling oddly bereft. It hadn’t really been all that fun to grab disorienting random spurts of other people’s worry or joy, or in one memorable instance as he was showering the night before – sexual desire. _That_ had left him rather overwhelmed and speechless, the person in the cubicle next to him doing who-knew-what – or persons? His mind boggled – while he ignored the fact that he had hardened involuntarily and quickly finished up so that he could hustle out of there. But he knew that it also meant losing the ability to feel Myungsoo as they flew together.

He wasn’t really a romantic, so he recognized the signs of hero worship just as much as he acknowledged he was genuinely attracted to the person Myungsoo appeared to be. That beautiful face, and his gorgeous flying; Sungyeol had to admit he didn’t have a chance.

It was funny; he’d known of Myungsoo since he’d become Hufflepuff seeker in third year, and they’d had a few classes together since then, like Potions – Sungyeol cringed at the realization of this in view of his new feelings, knowing that Myungsoo knew how pathetic he was at Potions – but Myungsoo was never more than a handsome face and good Quidditch player to him. He knew Dongwoo knew Myungsoo, but they moved in different circles and that was that. Yet, just two days were enough for Sungyeol to see Myungsoo in a new light. Knowing how much Myungsoo loved to fly, how much he enjoyed it, and the skill he had in the air had endeared him so thoroughly to Sungyeol even while it worried him – was it just superficial, then? Was he in love with Myungsoo’s love for flying, or was he in love with Myungsoo?

 _In love_. Sungyeol scrunched up his face in annoyance at himself, and then remembered he was in the middle of Charms and quickly let his features go back to normal before Professor Flitwick looked askance at him. _He sure was getting ahead of himself._

He walked Woohyun to his project meeting later that afternoon before meeting his own DADA groupmates in order to help explain away Woohyun’s weirdness during the meeting on Saturday, because he was a Good Best Friend. The Snakes had given him twin looks of ill-concealed disbelief at his excuse of having hexed Woohyun with an embarrassing verbal-vomit curse, while Dongwoo tried his very best not to give anything away (they’d told him everything after their wonderful Sunday breakfast). Sungjong raised a perfect eyebrow at Sungyeol, which he answered with a wink on his way out. He knew Sungjong would be disappointed to think he hadn’t actually gained another devotee in Howon.

Woohyun felt the need to giggle nervously, now that Sungyeol was gone and he was alone with his groupmates, but he knew that if he did that he would just be hammering in the last nail in his coffin. He tried for sincerity instead.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, turning to the Slytherins. “I would never have said those things if not for my dumb friend. I’m sorry I said things about your eyes,” Sunggyu’s face remained impassive, “or about you and – er, you,” he finished lamely, darting his gaze between Howon and Sungjong. He forged on. “And, to try and further redeem myself, I think I have the perfect project idea. Hereditary curses!”

Even Sungjong looked interested. Sunggyu looked grudgingly approving, while Dongwoo and Howon nodded in unison.

“That’s good,” Sungjong told him, rare words of praise.

“You know, you could have just given us an idea of your own and saved us all this time,” Woohyun nagged him as they got ready to discuss the parameters of their project.

“What’s the point in that?” Sungjong scoffed. “I might as well just do it alone, then. Professor Filtwick told me to stop doing work for other less-intelligent people.”

Sunggyu exchanged a look with Howon just as Dongwoo and Woohyun suppressed grins at this.

“You know, when compared to him, ‘less-intelligent people’ just means normal people,” Woohyun offered to the two Slytherins who were new to Sungjong’s bluntness. “Sungjongie, you’re never going to make new friends this way.”

Sungjong had the grace to look abashed, and laughed at a joke Howon made later on that Woohyun and Dongwoo knew he didn’t find funny in a million years.

*

“Hey, pasty,” Myungsoo greeted Sungyeol as he walked onto the pitch, chilly air making him shiver slightly and grumble inwardly about early-morning trainings.

“Do not make that a thing,” Sungyeol warned, amazed at how much more cheerful Myungsoo’s smiling face made him. He knew he was avoiding steady eye contact and cursed himself for not being able to look at Myungsoo straight-on because of how overwhelming his face was, as stupid as that sounded. The bigger his crush grew, the more awkward he became.

He missed feeling the rush of Myungsoo’s thrill as they passed one another in the air, so he subconsciously began scrutinizing Myungsoo’s face and body language as he flew. Myungsoo’s face was mostly a study in concentration, intense eyes and body held tense – not rigid, but coiled for any sudden move he had to make. However, here and there his mouth quirked in a slight grin after he pulled out of a particularly electrifying dive or roll; and Sungyeol imagined he could remember what Myungsoo’s pure delight at being able to execute those moves felt like. It made him ache.

It was only when Sungyeol was hit in the stomach by the bludger he wasn’t paying attention to that he realized how much of the practice he hadn’t been mentally present for, reality rushing in in the form of the pain blooming in his midsection. He managed to keep a hold on his broom, and headed for the ground where he tumbled haphazardly onto the grass, winded and gasping to get his breath back.

Myungsoo wasn’t the first to get to him so he hung back while Sungyeol’s teammates crouched around Sungyeol and checked for broken bones or internal bleeding, but Sungyeol registered the concern and alarm on his face. For all it may only have been reasonable for anyone to feel that way over someone else who’d just been bamboozled by a bludger, Sungyeol still felt a warm sense of gratification. When he was given the all-clear and a helpful pain-numbing potion from their first-aid kit, they moved him to the bleachers to allow him to recover. He spent the rest of the training before they broke for breakfast and lessons watching Myungsoo fly, the warm feeling returning every time he imagined he saw Myungsoo’s head turn to look at him far down below.

*

He was sitting up by the time the others descended, and he could see that Myungsoo was torn between leaving Sungyeol to his teammates and coming up to check on him, a thing he fiercely tried to stop himself celebrating. He waved off the others’ help, and lingered for as long as he could without making it obvious he was waiting for Myungsoo – how easy it was to forsake the sworn-upon bonds of Quidditch and friendship when a beautiful boy who flew like a pro wanted to talk to him. He slowly took off his shin and arm guards, boots and Quidditch robes, and when there’s nothing left but for him to get his stuff and broom and put them away into the locker rooms, Myungsoo finally walked up to him, his own robes hanging over one arm and his broom in another.

“Are you okay? That was a bad hit,” he said sympathetically. “Can you walk?”

“Nothing a seeker hasn’t had to deal with before,” Sungyeol smiled at him. “I’m just going to have a really bad bruise for a few days, that’s all.” He got to his feet slowly, fighting the urge to act more injured than he was in order to gain sympathy – or better, an arm around his waist to help him walk. Myungsoo grabbed all his stuff so that Sungyeol didn’t have to carry anything, and Sungyeol suppressed a huge grin. That was good, too.

“Do you want to go for breakfast?” Myungsoo asked after all their things had been put away, Myungsoo getting to see the inside of the Gryffindor locker room for the first time. (“Hmm,” he’d said, pretending to be unimpressed at the trophies, supportive and congratulatory messages and team posters. “A locker room is a locker room.”)

Sungyeol grimaced at this. A bludger to the stomach was never the best thing to whet the appetite. But if he didn’t eat there was no way he’d be able to make it through to lunch alive –

“You should at least have a milkshake or something,” Myungsoo suggested, concern in his eyes shining true. “And your friends will worry if they don’t see you at breakfast.”

Sungyeol hesitated. On one hand, he truly didn’t feel up to going for breakfast or socializing – even though he wasn’t badly injured any hit to the stomach always made him feel nauseous for hours after, and the dull persistent feeling of _wrong_ that accompanied the pain just made him distracted. Plus, there was a chance Myungsoo would stay with him if he acted pathetic enough. On the other hand, he wasn’t looking forward to the gnawing hunger he knew would assail him sometime around eleven o’clock, and Myungsoo was right; he didn’t want Dongwoo and Woohyun worried when he didn’t show up at the Great Hall.

Myungsoo, proving to be ever full of surprises, solved his problem for him.

“I’ll go grab something liquid-y for you from breakfast, okay? And I’ll tell your friends where you are. Do you want to stay here? Do you want me to stay with you?”

Sungyeol wondered if moony eyes, internal screaming and a dreamy smile was a good enough answer.

*


	4. Chapter 4

Woohyun just looked at him when Sungyeol beat the late bell by a scant minute, sliding nonchalantly into the Transfigurations classroom and his seat next to Woohyun as if he wasn’t wearing the looniest smile on his face Woohyun had ever seen.

“So,” Woohyun began, facing him. “Someone had an interesting morning.”

“Mmmm,” Sungyeol agreed happily, scooting forward in his seat to rest his chin in his hands but thinking better of it when the quick movement required a bit more of his stomach muscles than they were willing to give at the moment. “Ow.”

“You sure you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Just bruising.”

“You actually spent the whole of breakfast with Myungsoo? He told us you’d taken a hit to the stomach and wanted to rest a while before lessons started so not to worry and he was bringing food to you.”

“Yup.”

“… _And?!_ ”

“And what?” Sungyeol grinned, knowing it would just infuriate Woohyun further.

“What did you _do?_  I hate you! What happened?”

“We talked,” Sungyeol smiled, leaning carefully back. Myungsoo had returned levitating milk, cereal and fruit compote behind him and even haltingly asked if Sungyeol wanted him to transfigure the hard bench Sungyeol was sitting on into a soft couch. Sungyeol wasn’t sure what royalty experienced on a daily basis, but he had an idea that being treated like their comfort was everyone else’s top priority like this was pretty close to it. Conversation had been a little stilted at first, because Sungyeol wanted to say it felt like a private picnic but it had awkwardly come out sounding more like he meant private _date_  and Myungsoo hadn’t really known what to say to that, so subsequently they mainly kept to safe topics like Quidditch and Charms, which turned out to be both their favourite school subject.

“What did you talk _about?!_ ”

“Nothing really,” Sungyeol answered, which was the truth – they’d spoken about completely inconsequential things as they ate, and half the time Sungyeol found it hard to remember how to make words when he was watching Myungsoo’s adam apple bob as he swallowed and the tiny dimple that appeared in his right cheek when he smiled.

Sungyeol looked at Woohyun then, noticing the great exasperation splashed across his face which made Sungyeol break out in giggles, his stomach muscles regretting each and every one.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, hugging Woohyun’s arm. “But really. We just talked about stupid things and then we walked back to the castle and he went for Care of Magical Creatures while I came here. That was it.”

“That was it,” Woohyun repeated flatly.

“That was it. And it was amazing,” Sungyeol sighed happily, resting his head on Woohyun’s shoulder. Woohyun shrugged him off, tsking.

“Also there was a part when the stairs changed suddenly as we were walking up them and I lost my footing and he caught me and he smelled so good and he kind of laughed shyly after that and eeeeeeee,” Sungyeol squeed into Woohyun’s arm. Woohyun stared at him in horror.

“You gross lovesick stick insect,” he muttered, trying to shake Sungyeol off his arm.

*

“’Hereditary curses tend to affect pureblood families more seriously than families whose bloodline is mixed with Muggles, Muggleborns or Squibs’,” Sunggyu read from his research book, keeping his voice down so that they wouldn’t be chased out of the library by Madam Pince. “Well, that’s obvious. ‘This is why, in rare cases, a pureblood family afflicted with a particularly vehement or hostile curse would sacrifice their pride and give their first child to a marriage with a Muggleborn in hopes of breaking the curse down the generations as the bloodline is diluted; Muggleborns being deemed the most acceptable out of the three non-pureblood categories. It is also partly why a law was passed in 1764 that pureblood wizards and witches were no longer allowed to marry first cousins in order to keep their family inheritance and name.’ ”

“That’s interesting,” Woohyun said, Howon nodding along. “Maybe we should focus on that. Try to find a case study where a pureblood family tried to break a hereditary curse by marrying their firstborn to a non-pureblood.”

“Why only a firstborn, though? Wouldn’t all the children be affected?” Dongwoo asked.

“Most ancient hereditary curses focused on the firstborn, and usually the firstborn son, because traditionally that’s who would be getting the inheritance and the father’s title. Purebloods made up the vast majority of wizarding aristocracy, after all, where the eldest son was responsible for carrying on the family name,” Sungjong answered, not looking up from his own book. “Which is why quite a few ancient hereditary curses also had extremely tricky clauses that would only allow the women of the family to have one firstborn son, and none after; or if the firstborn was a daughter, then no sons afterwards. Sometimes the women just never had sons, or sometimes the boys died as infants, or went insane. A few families tried to defy tradition by passing on the inheritance to the firstborn girl, of course, but society never really accepted them. Few men wanted to marry into a family where his wife would be the titled owner of the estate and he was expected to play the role of an equal, or inferior. And so those bloodlines died out, satisfying the curse.”

“Is he reading off his book or was that all from his own head?” Sunggyu whispered to Woohyun, past slights apparently forgiven. Woohyu shrugged and spread his hands in a sincere gesture of cluelessness, knowing better than to underestimate Sungjong but still incredulous at Sungjong’s usual walking-dictionary act.

“Whoa, so if in current society? Where women are accepted as a family’s sole inheritor?”

“Holy Merlin, some families could be cursed and not even know it,” Howon interrupted Dongwoo, finishing his thought. “They may think that the curse died off or was broken just because they haven’t had firstborn sons for a few generations or something, since the family hasn’t been negatively affected, right? Since the bloodline isn’t in danger of dying out?”

They all had the same panicked thought simultaneously – though likely with the exception of Sungjong, who rarely got worked up about anything – and all began talking at once.

“My family’s safe, I have an older sister _and_  me,” Sunggyu said in a tone of high relief.

“Me too! Two older sisters!” Dongwoo high-fived Sunggyu.

“I have an older brother,” Woohyun started uncertainly.

“Me too, me too!” Hoya chimed in. “And a younger one! Wait, I don’t know what that means!”

“That’s only one type of hereditary curse that prevents a family from having boys, there are those that don’t discriminate between daughters or sons,” Sungjong said, bored at their inability to be critical and still not looking up from his book. “Some curses take very long to work, having exact conditions for the effects to be felt. Some affect all the children, not just the first. And I was only talking about curses in connection with titled families.”

Identical worried frowns bloomed on the other four faces, paranoia slowly setting in.

“So you’re saying that any family might be cursed and not really know it? If curses can be that specific and the conditions just haven’t been favourable for it to manifest?” Woohyun asked tentatively.

“It’s possible,” Sungjong answered, finally looking up. “Every curse has its own specifications. But what family would forget that they’ve been cursed? Curses don’t work unless the victim _knows_  that they’ve been cursed.”

“No, that’s not true, you can give someone a harmful potion without the person knowing –“ Howon objected.

“No, revenge magic works differently. You are cursing _all the person’s descendants_. What’s the point of something bad happening to someone you want to take revenge on and having the person not even know why it’s happening to them? They could just attribute it to bad luck, when you want them to regret the day they ever crossed you. Hereditary curses are very dark spells, not simple harm-and-injure ones. How else can a curse endure from one generation to the next until the bloodline is broken? It takes as much out of the curser as it does the cursee.”

“I know it’s a blood pact,” Dongwoo volunteered.

“Exactly,” Sungjong continued, enjoying playing the role of expert. “Some even require the life of the one who casts the curse, they’re that serious. If I were going to sacrifice my life in order to curse someone I hated so badly, I’d make sure they knew it.”

“Sungjong,” Woohyun started slowly. “Exactly what _don’t_  you know about hereditary curses?”

“Probably not much,” Sungjong answered honestly.

“He reads advanced reference books in his free time,” Dongwoo told to Howon, who couldn’t decide between being impressed or intimidated and so just settled for admiring.

*

Woohyun woke up on a Saturday morning a week later to find Sungyeol preening in the bathroom; first combing his hair one way and then the other, ruffling it with his fingers and then quickly making it neat again.

“It’s a Quidditch game, not a beauty pageant, stupid. You’re not going to get points for how good you look.”

Sungyeol ignored him and turned first one way and then the other to see how his hair looked from all sides in the mirror.

“And once you get up in the air your hair’s just going to end up looking like a hedgehog when you get down like it usually does anyway.”

“Really? That’s what I look like after I fly?” Sungyeol turned to him, concerned.

Woohyun just gave him a Look. “He’s not going to care how your hair looks,” Woohyun told Sungyeol, enunciating every word. “He’s going to be way down in the stands, too far away for him to see what you look like.”

“You’re right,” Sungyeol said, nodding quickly. “I need to impress him with awesome flying and scoring many many points.”

“How about you should score ‘many many’ points for Gryffindor so we can _win?_ ” Woohyun demanded, following him out of the bathroom and back into their bedroom while trying not to get toothpaste on the carpet.

“I haven’t had any excuse to spend time with him in over a week,” Sungyeol complained, putting on his Quidditch robes. “Ugh, if only he was in one of our project groups.”

“Like Potions? To see you fail pathetically?”

“Maybe if he was my Potions partner I’d be motivated to _not_  fail,” Sungyeol said, and immediately got whacked on the head with a pillow.

“Are you saying you’re not trying just because you’re with me?! That’s it. I quit as your best friend. Go to your Myungsoo, I don’t care,” Woohyun huffed, half-pretending to be mad. His act was somewhat spoiled by a mouthful of toothpaste suds, and so he gathered his dignity and marched back out to the bathrooms.

A minute later he poked his head back into their bedroom to see Sungyeol lacing up his boots like nothing had happened. “This is the part you come running after me to say ‘No, Woohyun, nobody could take your place,’” he said, toothbrush still in his mouth.

“No, Woohyun, nobody could take your place,” Sungyeol dutifully repeated with no feeling whatsoever, and so Woohyun spit his toothpaste onto Sungyeol’s carefully-coiffed hair.

*

The first game of the season was always the one Sungyeol looked forward to and dreaded the most. A good performance boded well for the rest of the year and raised team morale even higher – a bad one just infected the subsequent games with horrible negative energy that caused a vicious cycle of lost confidence and stupid mistakes. The day was bright and chilly, winter reminding everyone of its imminent arrival in only a few months’ time; Woohyun had made up for his toothpaste and saliva in Sungyeol’s hair by giving him Woohyun’s favourite scarf to keep him warm, but only after Woohyun had extracted a hundred apologies from Sungyeol.

The stands were already full when the team left the locker room to start their pitch warmup, elegant Ravenclaw banners flying in the morning breeze on one side of the stadium and vibrant Gryffindor flags on the other. Ravenclaw was always a tough team to beat; while Gryffindor had the guts and passion, Ravenclaw had the brains and they always flew in such perfect formation that their strategy alone was sometimes enough to unseat their opponents. Rousing cheers greeted the two teams as they took to the air, still a good half-hour before the whistle.

Sungyeol sat straighter on his broom than usual as he moved through his drills, trying to face his good side to the Gryffindor supporters in case Myungsoo had come to watch – he’d be sitting with the Gryffindor camp, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t be cheering against Sungyeol today, right? Or would he? What if he had come to the game together with someone, today? Dongwoo had told them after their kimchi breakfast Myungsoo wasn’t attached; but he wasn’t sure if Myungsoo hadn’t already got his eye on somebody.

 _Ugh_ , Sungyeol thought. _Just ugh_. Crushes were so troublesome.

Gryffindor’d found a new seeker, after all – some scrawny first-year called Harry with huge glasses – who flew kind of astonishingly like he was born to do it; but he was still untried, and anything could happen. Sungyeol just had to make sure they, the chasers, were relentless and on target. They executed some of their flying formations a few last times before Madam Hooch strode out onto the middle of the pitch with the official bludgers, quaffle and the snitch – cheers rose from the red-and-gold-bedecked stands as they swooped together with their quaffle, passing it easily from one to the other. The blue-and-bronze side of the stadium answered with louder cheers which the Gryffindors replied with outright yelling until the entire pitch was a cacophony of rousing noise and screaming students: Sungyeol _loved_  it.

They got into their positions at Madam Hooch’s first whistle, Darius flying off to the end of the pitch to take up his place in defending Gryffindor’s goals while the chasers and beaters took up their own attacking positions facing the Ravenclaw team, the new seeker off to the side. Sungyeol noticed Priyanka, the beater nearest him, give the tiny first-year a reassuring thumbs-up; Harry looked like he wanted to throw up. Sungyeol grinned, remembering his own first game. _Myungsoo’s watching_ , his traitorous brain whispered. _If he is, then I’m going to give him something to think about_.

Madam Hooch blew the whistle, the bludgers and snitch leapt into the air, and she threw the quaffle straight up – and they were off. Everything always moved so fast during a Quidditch game that Sungyeol rarely had time to think – it was all instinct and reflexes as he reacted to the players’ movements around him, kept an eye out for the bludgers as he mentally registered the positions of the beaters of his own and the opposing team, as well as focused on passing the quaffle well and getting it into Ravenclaw’s goal. Points jumped on the scoreboard – Gryffindor, then Ravenclaw, then Gryffindor, then Ravenclaw twice, then Gryffindor – Sungyeol intercepted the quaffle as a Ravenclaw chaser was unsettled by a particularly good whack of the bludger by Priyanka and raced for the goal, his own chasers immediately circling him and shouted instructions and warnings flying fast and furious as they passed the quaffle between them to throw off the Ravenclaw beaters. They were barely metres away from the scoring zone when Madam Hooch’s shrill whistle was heard.

Sungyeol turned to find Kyung, their second beater, slumped over his broom and favouring his right arm, Priyanka hovering protectively nearby. Madam Hooch called a time out while they ascertained the injury – a broken forearm from a well-aimed bludger, and now Gryffindor was left with only one beater. The Gryffindor supporters yelled out boos and insults even though this was par for the course, and with passionate screams of support as their background Darius called a quick meeting to impress on them the danger of only having one beater, telling Harry that it was now or never for him to find the Snitch and end the game before any more of them got hurt. Easier said than done, since Harry had been conscientiously combing the pitch for the snitch, desperately trying not to get fouled by anyone and to watch the Ravenclaw seeker at the same time with no results. As the older players tried to reassure him saying that this was normal, Darius did an emergency reshuffling of their positions to cover Kyung’s absence and they broke up their huddle as poor Kyung was levitated off the field. Sungyeol was always impressed with his captain at moments like this; forceful but never bossy, in-charge but never domineering.

“ _Lee Sungyeol!_ ”

Sungyeol looked up smiling just as he was about to kick off to see Woohyun and Dongwoo waving madly at him from the stands only two bleachers up, and then his stomach lurched to see Myungsoo next to them, giving him a teasing grin.

 _You’re not bad_ , Myungsoo mouthed at him, making a so-so gesture with his hand and pretending to be unimpressed.

Sungyeol mock-bowed back at him, causing a few second-year girls to giggle excitedly, thinking it was aimed at them. Sungyeol looked at them, surprised. Maybe his fanclub dream wasn’t too far off, after all.

He threw a last look back at Myungsoo and his overexcited friends before he took to the air once more, feeling like he was flying amongst the clouds.

*


	5. Chapter 5

They strained their necks to see what was going on, the spectator stands all gone quiet with anticipation.

“Did he get it?” Angie, one of the other two chasers, shouted out to Sungyeol. He shook his head shortly; he was waiting along with everyone else to see what was going on with Harry, who sat dazedly on the pitch surrounded by all the other players hovering close by on their brooms. The Ravenclaw seeker had tumbled ungracefully a few feet away onto the grass from her race for the snitch with Harry, and looked like she was hoping against hope that what they all suspected wasn’t true.

Harry retched once, twice, and then coughing, spit out the golden snitch, looking just as amazed as everyone else.

The Gryffindor supporters erupted in celebration as Darius nearly fell off his broom from astonishment. “Well! That’s one way to catch the snitch, I guess?” he said, surveying the new kid with disbelief.

Sungyeol landed with the other Gryffindor players, all rushing forward to get a piece of the hero of the hour. He ruffled the boy’s messy hair affectionately, and Harry beamed so widely at him it looked like his face was going to crack in half.

They took their victory lap around the pitch to the sound of the Ravenclaw side clapping for them together with the ecstatic Gryffindors, as classy as ever. The scoreboard showed the final points: Gryffindor 240 to Ravenclaw’s 110.

The Gryffindor house chants began, raucous and uncoordinated, as the supporters finally started to stream off the stands and back to the Great Hall for brunch. The game had been relatively short this time, lasting only slightly over an hour, but the students had worked up an appetite out in the crisp air and were looking forward to further celebration over hot food. There was a knot of people around Harry, their newest celebrity, and Sungyeol smiled to see it. Forty of their points had been his, but it was nothing compared to a hundred and fifty; still, he couldn’t find it in himself to be jealous when the kid looked so _happy_.

Sungyeol was tackled by a delighted Woohyun as he exited the locker room, Dongwoo doing his own version of a congratulatory dance as Myungsoo hung back, watching them and chuckling. They all turned towards the castle together, their stomachs being beckoned irresistibly by the delicious food awaiting them. Sungyeol ended up in step with Myungsoo, Dongwoo and Woohyun a few paces ahead as they were swallowed by the hungry crowd.

“New boy’s pretty good,” Myungsoo remarked, grinning a bit. “Not exactly how _I_  would’ve done it, but…”

“What, you mean you can’t catch a snitch with your mouth?” Sungyeol asked, feigning shock. “I’m disappointed, Myungsoo.”

“Hey, I can do a lot of things with my mouth, okay?” Myungsoo instantly protested, and then blushed fire-engine red when he realized what a silly thing he’d said. Sungyeol burst out laughing, enjoying the little flare of heat in his belly as his mind immediately threw up images of just what other things Myungsoo could possibly do with his mouth.

“Really?” Sungyeol leered in between laughs, earning the shove he got from a still-blushing Myungsoo.

“Yes, really! And too bad for you that you’re never going to find out!” Myungsoo blustered in embarrassment and speedwalked away, making Sungyeol laugh even harder even as his heart started pounding. _This is it, Sungyeol. You’re not going to get a better chance than this._

Jogging to catch up, he reached out a hand and caught Myungsoo above the elbow, slowing him down. This was the first time either one of them had touched the other, and Sungyeol reveled a bit in the feel of toned muscles underneath Myungsoo’s school robes. Not dropping his hand, he pulled Myungsoo to a stop.

“I would – really like to find out, actually,” Sungyeol managed to get out, immediately regretting his choice of words. “Uh, I mean, eventually! Not right now. I mean – would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me, maybe? For just – tea, or dinner? One of these days? Just to hang out, I mean?” _WOW Sungyeol you are the most un-smooth operator on the bloody planet!_  he couldn’t help mentally scolding himself at the barrage of nonsense that had just come out of his mouth. First unintentionally propositioning Myungsoo – well, not unintentionally, if he was completely honest with himself – then blathering on and on like an idiot. It had not gone at all like he’d imagined, because in his head Myungsoo had definitely not had the absolutely speechless expression on his face he had now.

“Um,” Myungsoo said, blinking rapidly, and at once Sungyeol wanted to shrivel up into a ball of hopelessness and despair. He didn’t like boys? He didn’t like Sungyeol? Not like _that?_

“Oh, it’s okay,” Sungyeol quickly cut in, trying to put an end to his misery as fast as possible. “It’s fine if you don’t want to, really. Totally okay. I understand, it’s no biggie,” he smiled, beginning to walk backwards after Dongwoo and Woohyun. “Don’t worry about it!” Sungyeol all but ran towards his clueless friends, leaving Myungsoo looking confused where he was standing in the middle of the way.

“Wait, where’s Myungsoo?” Dongwoo asked, puzzled, trying to look around as Sungyeol frogmarched them both at double speed up the stairs and into the Great Hall.

“Feeding off the remains of my broken heart,” Sungyeol answered, trying to sound lighter than he felt.

“What?” Woohyun shook off Sungyeol’s arm. “What happened?”

Sungyeol put two fingers to his forehead, pretending to shoot himself with a gun like he’d seen in that one Muggle movie his Muggle studies teacher made them watch in third year, complete with sound effects.

“I don’t get it,” Dongwoo said.

“I asked him out, he had nothing to say,” Sungyeol translated, heaving himself onto the bench at one of the tables, momentarily distracted by a few Gryffindors congratulating him on the win.

“You asked him out? You’ve known each other a _week_ , Yeol,” Woohyun stated incredulously. “No wonder he had nothing to say. _I_  would’ve said ‘Boy, you crazy,’ and left it at that.”

“Really? You think it was too soon?”

“You don’t even know his surname!” Woohyun rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Ah, whatever. Eat.” He put two cinnamon rolls onto Sungyeol’s plate and started to ladle out hot porridge for him into a bowl. “Honey?”

“Okay,” Sungyeol agreed sadly, too busy staring ruefully at his cinnamon rolls to notice the little folded paper that had fluttered over to them, hovering delicately in the air in front of him. Dongwoo nudged him in the side to make him look up, and Woohyun stopped ladling.

Sungyeol plucked the paper out of the air, and it stopped fluttering like a butterfly in his fingers. He opened it, not wanting to entertain the possibility that it might be from Myungsoo and yet wishing with all his suddenly-thumping heart.

_Friday at three good for you? Meet me outside the main doors._

There was no question who it was from. Woohyun grabbed the hastily-scribbled note from him the moment Sungyeol sat up straighter to scan the crowd, and lit upon Myungsoo watching him from the end of one table over. Myungsoo immediately ducked when Sungyeol caught his eye, but looked up again a moment later; Sungyeol tried his best to mouth ‘OK’ without beaming too widely, but it was a futile attempt. Myungsoo sent him a quick nod and wave and ducked his head once more, the tips of his ears flaming red.

“This is either the cutest or the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen,” Woohyun muttered, smiling nonetheless for his best friend, and scooped in extra honey into his porridge.

“His surname is Kim,” Dongwoo told him helpfully. “Kim Myungsoo!” Dongwoo broke into his distinctive Dongwoo laughter, and Sungyeol couldn’t help but laugh along sheepishly. Oh, life was good.

*

Sungyeol dragged Woohyun back to their dorm after DADA that Friday where he absolutely couldn’t look Myungsoo’s way during class without his hands going clammy. He knew it was ridiculous, and normally he was pretty cool in most situations – he could calmly stare down another Chaser coming at him head-on and at full-speed to try to force him out of his flight path, but one thought of the impending date with Myungsoo and he went to pieces. He’d only ever felt the same with his ex-girlfriend when he was fourteen, but then he had been _fourteen_. He was so much more manly and grown-up now. Wasn’t he?

“What should I wear? Help me with my hair – and if you spit in it again you will not live to see the dawn of a new day, Nam Woohyun,” he warned.

“Just wear whatever you always do, for goodness sake. Don’t make it look like you obsessed over this, you’ll just make him awkward. Please don’t meet him with the light of love shining in your eyes for all to see, okay? Keep it casual.” Woohyun hopped onto Sungyeol’s bed, enjoying watching him fret over his outfit.

“Yes, oh wise love guru,” Sungyeol grumbled, digging in his trunk for something that would make him look drop-dead handsome but casual. Very casual.

“Here, just go with a button-down, jeans and sneakers, you can’t go wrong with that,” Woohyun said, taking pity on him. “And roll the sleeves up to your elbows. I know girls love that.”

“Myungsoo’s not a girl,” Sungyeol stopped short.

“What do you expect me to say? I’ve never dated a boy before!” Woohyun protested. “By the way, you’re taking this whole I’m-interested-in-a-boy thing rather calmly. You know I don’t care, but if I really think about it it’s still a bit weird. It’s like me dating you or something.”

“I know this isn’t the point, but why on earth would I date _you?_ ” Sungyeol asked, scandalized, continuing his dig for a white button-down he knew he had stashed somewhere in his trunk. “Don’t be gross.”

“What’s so gross about dating me? I know all your secrets, I put up with all your flaws, I encourage you, I support you, I even go and cheer for you at Quidditch even though you know I don’t give a shit about sports. I’d make you a damn good boyfriend.”

“Only the thought of kissing you kind of makes me want to throw up,” Sungyeol straightened with his shirt in his hands, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s true,” Woohyun agreed. “Platonic boyfriend, then.”

“I think that’s called a best friend, stupid,” Sungyeol couldn’t help laughing. “Which you already are. Could you at least try not to be so competitive?”

“I can’t help it,” Woohyun shrugged simply, pointing to indicate a dark pair of jeans that Sungyeol should wear. “Yeah, that one.”

Sungyeol stripped off his school robes to his boxers, examining closely how un-embarrassed he was to do this in front of Woohyun, who looked at his near-naked body with such a blasé expression Sungyeol knew he was right about what he felt for Myungsoo. The thought of Myungsoo being the one sitting on his bed watching him take off his clothes made something hot curl in his stomach and spread fire through his skin.

“Anyway… it’s just him, isn’t it? For some reason I don’t care that he’s not a girl. I’m attracted to him, I want to be around him. I want him to find _me_  attractive, I want him to want to spend time with _me_.” He pulled on his shirt after casting a charm on it to iron out the creases and let Woohyun help him roll the sleeves up to the elbows, just as Woohyun had instructed.

“Okay?” he asked hopefully when he was dressed and his hair was acceptable.

“As good as it’s gonna get,” Woohyun answered, nodding. “Please don’t propose marriage tonight. Asking him out after a week was bad enough.”

Sungyeol hesitated, then pulled Woohyun into a quick hug. “Thanks, Woohyun. For supporting, and accepting, and going to all my games,” he grinned as he pulled back.

“Hey,” Woohyun said, shrugging as if his awesomeness was self-explanatory. “Myungsoo, Schmungsoo. This is the best you’re ever going to get, and don’t forget it. Platonic boyfriend number one, right here.”

Sungyeol pushed him so that he fell backwards onto Sungyeol’s bed, laughing anyway. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Remember, no marriage proposals!” Woohyun shouted after him as Sungyeol disappeared out the door.

*

The closer he got to the main doors the worse the hand-clamminess and heart-thumping got. He felt immediately like an idiot the moment Myungsoo turned around and saw him – dressed simply in a shirt, hooded sweater and tight jeans; wasn’t Sungyeol way too formal in his button-down shirt? He shook his fringe out of his face and tried to smile, but his face wasn’t having it. Gods, having an entire week to obsess over this date had really done a number on him. He wasn’t sure he could string a coherent sentence together, much less have _fun_.

“Hi,” he breathed, trying to drink Myungsoo in with his eyes. _At least his vocal cords still work._  Myungsoo smiled, the little dimple in his right cheek too adorable for words.

“I’m sorry about Saturday,” Myungsoo started, and Sungyeol gratefully followed him down the steps because he had no idea if they should stand there and talk awhile or start walking.

“Saturday? What do you mean?”

“You took me by surprise, when you asked me – asked me out. I wasn’t expecting it and so I just clammed up. I didn’t mean to give you the impression I wasn’t interested,” Myungsoo explained, looking everywhere but at Sungyeol.

“Oh! I, uh. I didn’t want you to feel obligated or weird, you know. So I thought it would be better for me to just give you a way out if you wanted it,” Sungyeol said, not really sure what he was saying.

“No, I – I want to be here,” Myungsoo said, giving that shy laugh of his that had the ability to bend Sungyeol’s brain.

“So, The Three Broomsticks?”

“Yeah.”

They set off proper, Sungyeol already wondering what Woohyun would say to him planning to try to hold Myungsoo’s hand later on if things went well.

Their Butterbeers were warm and soothing, the pub thankfully cosy and familiar enough to set them at their ease as they talked about their different houses, their families, their friends. One Butterbeer turned into two, then three, then into windowshopping in Hogsmeade where they spent quite some time sighing over the newest broom models in Spintwitches and ogling the candy in Honeydukes. Sungyeol bought sugar quills for them both to eat as they continued their ramble around the village, Myungsoo laughing at him for trying to play the gentleman.

“I have money too, you know,” Myungsoo helpfully informed him.

“Fine, then buy me some toffees,” Sungyeol ordered, happily receiving the little bag of fat honey-coloured toffees when Myungsoo returned, shaking his head amusedly at Sungyeol.

“Look at how beautiful that is,” Sungyeol said, holding one up to the light to see it glisten in its promise of sweet, creamy deliciousness. He was about to pop it into his mouth when Myungsoo stopped him.

“Don’t I get one?”

Sungyeol knew he wasn’t imagining the mischievous look in Myungsoo’s eye when he said it, so Sungyeol readily decided to play the game; holding the toffee out to Myungsoo but just short of Myungsoo’s mouth.

Myungsoo leaned forward to take it from Sungyeol, wrapping his own fingers around Sungyeol’s wrist in the pretext of holding his hand steady. Dropping his gaze at the last second so that his eyelashes swept his cheeks before his lips brushed Sungyeol’s fingers deliberately, the toffee disappeared into his mouth.

Sungyeol was speechless for a moment; he was clearly in the presence of a master. The tips of Myungsoo’s ears were flaming again, though, giving him away.

“Good?” Sungyeol asked, enthralled.

“Mmm,” Myungsoo replied, quickly turning away to check out Gladrags’. Sungyeol grinned at his back. Damn, he was _sold_.

They finally decided to make their way back once the sun dipped below the horizon, after they’d had something to eat at The Three Broomsticks. Sungyeol didn’t want to leave, even while he wanted to run back and yell at Woohyun for three hours straight about how amazingly well the date had gone. There had been rough patches here and there when either one had gotten awkward or embarrassed about their growing mutual attraction, not wanting to address it head-on while trying to encourage the other to show some kind of sign of their feelings, but mostly it had gone swimmingly – they shared many common interests and they could talk about more or less anything without being worried that the other thought they were boring or talking about things they didn’t understand. The Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch rivalry they shared was something they enjoyed falling back on to use as bait to tease each other – Sungyeol was genuinely interested about how things would go when they actually played each other; a game that was coming up fast.

“Do you think we’ll hate each other after the match?” Sungyeol asked, the lights of the castle coming into view.

“I’ll try my best to spare your pride,” Myungsoo offered magnanimously, laughing when Sungyeol gave him an exasperated face. He hit Sungyeol playfully, hand sliding down Sungyeol’s arm as if he wanted to prolong the contact without being too obvious about it, and Sungyeol seized his chance. He caught Myungsoo’s hand before he could pull it away and tried to entwine their fingers together, only succeeding in getting them tangled. They got it right on the second try, Sungyeol highly grateful for the dark surrounding them so nobody could see how badly he was blushing at the botched attempt. Myungsoo had gone quiet, holding tightly on to Sungyeol’s hand, and Sungyeol found the courage to caress Myungsoo’s index finger lightly with his thumb. He nearly laughed out loud at the image of Woohyun shouting at him for rushing things again but managed to thankfully stop himself in time.

They let go of each other as they approached the castle grounds, walking up in companionable silence to the main doors where they’d have to separate; Myungsoo to the Hufflepuff basement near the kitchens and Sungyeol to Gryffindor Tower.

“Um, thanks for today,” Sungyeol said, feeling awkward once again. How does one say goodbye at the end of a date? With his ex-girlfriend they’d both been Gryffindors and had hardly gone out much, just meeting mostly in their common room; he had no idea how to end a date smoothly when both parties were going to separate dorms.

Myungsoo reached for Sungyeol’s hand again after casting a quick eye around to check if anyone was looking.

“I’ll see you again soon?” It was a no-brainer. Sungyeol may have nodded in answer a bit too emphatically.

Myungsoo smiled, releasing his hand and turned to go, smiling again over his shoulder. Sungyeol ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, suddenly bursting with supernova energy.

*


	6. Chapter 6

And so the next two weeks passed – meeting in the many nooks and crannies Hogwarts had to offer students in search of quiet places they could be alone in to do their homework (a.k.a. be self-conscious and sneak looks at each other, getting nothing done), study for their too-many-to-count tests (or try to impress each other and fail miserably when it came to Potions on Sungyeol’s part, Myungsoo trying to hide a smile), practice their DADA and non-verbal spells (ending in Sungyeol puffing up like a peacock when Myungsoo needed his help to get the Geminio charm right). Today they were revising Finite Incantatum; ostensibly easy and low-level, but needing conviction and intuition to execute perfectly. Sungyeol cast various charms on things around the room for Myungsoo to remove; and Myungsoo was getting more and more frustrated when he succeeded in all of them except Sungyeol’s Tarantellegra cast on one of their chairs.

“Finite!” Myungsoo tried again, managing to make only two out of the straight-backed chair’s four legs stop dancing, so that it began to hop around rather sadly, dragging its inanimate legs behind the two doing what looked like a jig. “Why can’t I do it?! This is a damn second-year charm!”

“Calm down, you’re getting distracted,” Sungyeol advised, walking up close to shake Myungsoo lightly by the shoulders – and in that split second the atmosphere between them changed. Myungsoo dropped his eyes as Sungyeol looked down at him from his two-inch advantage, the tips of his ears slowly turning red; always a dead giveaway. Sungyeol wasn’t exactly sure what their status was at the moment – they’d hold hands, sometimes, or let their hands brush, and Sungyeol was getting bolder in the way he’d let himself touch Myungsoo; briefly stroking Myungsoo’s hair, or letting a hand linger on a shoulder or arm – he didn’t think they were _together_  yet, but they were kind of dating, although they never really acknowledged the progression of their feelings and completely ignored the existence of a certain thing called ‘kissing’ or any part of each other’s body below the waist even as it was fast becoming all Sungyeol could think about these days.

He stepped away awkwardly, releasing Myungsoo. It drove him _crazy_. He was never good at taking things slowly – didn’t see the point of waiting if he knew what he wanted – but Myungsoo seemed genuinely too embarrassed whenever faced with the possibility of kissing or hugging even while he clearly yearned to touch and be touched; Sungyeol would put an arm around Myungsoo and he could practically _see_  all of Myungsoo’s thought processes grind to a halt as he fought with himself not to lean into Sungyeol until he was blushing so hard Sungyeol didn’t know what to do. So Sungyeol would step back and drop his hand or arm, extremely mystified. And the worst thing was Myungsoo would droop slightly after Sungyeol moved away, the disappointment on his face well-hidden but obvious for someone who was looking for it in the slight pursing of his lips and tiny furrow of his brow.

Sungyeol wondered what would happen if he just grabbed Myungsoo and kissed him – whether Myungsoo would freeze up and just stay still, lips clamped shut while blushing furiously, or if he’d finally let himself let go and give in to what he clearly wanted. It made Sungyeol want to roar.

Anyway, Finite Incantatem; they practised a few more times until Myungsoo could stop all four legs of the chair dancing at once, Sungyeol throwing himself into teacher mode until Myungsoo had gotten over the awkwardness of earlier.

He was still brooding about it as he reached Gryffindor Tower and came upon a bedroom devoid of Woohyuns. He wasn’t in the common room, either, and there was no note left on Sungyeol’s bed as to why Woohyun wasn’t waiting there for him to go for dinner together. Sungyeol sighed, heaviness and regret settling in his chest.

A month ago the only problems he’d had was how to avoid dying of shame and ineptitude in Potions and making sure he found time to do all his homework, studying, and Quidditch training. Now where he’d always expected to have girl problems, he had multiple boy problems up to _here_  from dealing with Myungsoo and Woohyun and he wasn’t even dating both of them.

Woohyun had been cold with him lately, and Sungyeol knew perfectly why; Woohyun, even though in many other ways was the best best friend on the planet, didn’t like to share. For all his larger-than-life personality that implied boundless confidence and self-esteem, Woohyun needed a lot of reassurance – Sungyeol had been undeniably consumed with Myungsoo, and if he knew Woohyun, Woohyun was feeling neglected. Sungyeol couldn’t help bringing up Myungsoo in almost every conversation even as he registered Woohyun’s annoyance at the back of his mind, and he couldn’t help wanting to spend as much time as possible with Myungsoo, even if it was just to surreptitiously watch him study; but ‘couldn’t help it’ as an excuse wouldn’t fly with Woohyun. He knew ignoring Woohyun’s feelings in the hope they would go away would just make it worse as Dongwoo himself had warned, but – _Myungsoo_. And so Woohyun had gotten colder and colder with him to the point that his silence was like a slap in the face, and Sungyeol had no one else to blame but himself.

Just as Sungyeol was about to make his way out of the bedroom down to the Great Hall to join Woohyun and Dongwoo, Woohyun entered the doorway, his gaze settling on Sungyeol for a moment before he looked away.

“Oh, you’re here,” he said briefly by way of greeting. He circumnavigated Sungyeol and went to his own bed, having come back to pick up a book he’d left on his bedside table. Sungyeol might as well have been a house elf.

“Woohyun,” Sungyeol went for it, having had enough of uncomfortable situations for one day and the closed-off look on his best friend’s face overcoming him with remorse. “Are you upset with me because I’ve been spending too much time with Myungsoo?”

Woohyun looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not upset. You can go do whatever you want.”

Sungyeol followed Woohyun out of the bedroom, feeling both helpless and irritated at how stubborn Woohyun could be. He was aware that Woohyun was reacting this way partly because he was embarrassed to be upset in the first place, but it was testament to how well Sungyeol knew him that he also recognized Woohyun’s need for Sungyeol to prove how sorry he was. “Don’t be like this, I’m not dumb. I can read you like a book and I know you’re feeling pushed aside and I am seriously sorry. Please understand that I wasn’t doing it on purpose, okay? What do you want me to do to make it up to you? Kneel in apology? Carry a sign around for a week that says ‘I’m a terrible friend’?”

“What would be the point of that?” Woohyun sniffed in the same even tone, ducking through the entrance to their common room without a look back.

Sungyeol scrambled through it, blindly grabbing Woohyun when he emerged to force Woohyun to stop and look at him. “Woohyun, _please_. It won’t happen again, alright? I’ll stop seeing him so much, or we’ll work something out. Please. It’s killing me that you’re mad at me.”

“Oh, _now_  it’s killing you? Only now?” Woohyun shook his arm out of Sungyeol’s grip obstinately. Sungyeol took a deep breath, telling himself that punching Woohyun would only make things worse no matter how childish he was acting.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have let it go on for so long. I really am sorry I made you feel this way, Woohyun. There is no way I could ever replace you with anyone. Not even Myungsoo.”

Woohyun looked slightly mollified at that, and Sungyeol knew he’d hit the nail on the head. Torn between being frustrated that Woohyun could even think that and apologetic because he knew part of the reason Woohyun was so upset was because he was also upset at _himself_  for being jealous, Sungyeol put out his fist, and after a reluctant moment Woohyun gave it two tiny bumps sheepishly.

“Didn’t you miss me?” Woohyun asked in a small voice, still not meeting Sungyeol’s eyes.

“Of course I did, stupid, I just let myself get too caught up in him. Are you still my platonic boyfriend?” Sungyeol asked, winking at Woohyun, who rolled his eyes as Sungyeol took his chance and dragged him in for a hug. _Silly insecure Nam,_  Sungyeol thought as they hugged it out, gladness blooming in his chest that he had his best friend back with no more residual hurt feelings that a little flattering and attention couldn’t fix. Another Gryffindor they knew from the year above them catcalled teasingly as he came out of the common room, Sungyeol giving him a friendly middle finger behind Woohyun’s back.

“Those two, seriously,” the boy told someone, laughing. “Might as well get married.”

The uncertain laugh that answered sent instant alarm bells screeching in Sungyeol’s head, and he drew back from the hug to find Myungsoo standing a few paces away, looking for all the world like he wanted the floor to open and swallow him up.

“Myungsoo?” he asked in disbelief, Woohyun fast moving apart from Sungyeol in a way that just made the two of them look even more suspicious. _Of all times!_

“I took your textbook just now by mistake,” Myungsoo said, holding Sungyeol’s Charms book up and rushing his words out.

“You could have just given it back to me at dinner,” Sungyeol told him, knowing as he said it that that just made it sound even more like he and Woohyun had something to hide, coming out like he was annoyed Myungsoo had shown up there but powerless to take back the words once said. Sungyeol was panicking inside as he walked up to Myungsoo to take it from him, Myungsoo quickly dropping his arm to flash him a quick smile before he walked off.

 _Oh gods,_  Sungyeol thought. _If he left Woohyun alone now to run off and explain things to Myungsoo it would just make everything worse with Woohyun, but if he didn’t – he had no idea how much Myungsoo had heard or seen, and for Merlin’s sake did that goddamn seventh-year have to go and say that to Myungsoo? Also what in all hells was Woohyun doing, jumping apart from him like that as if they’d just both been caught making out or something –_

“Go.” Woohyun was suddenly at his side, taking the textbook from him to add to the one he was already carrying. “I don’t know what the hell he possibly thinks just happened, but it doesn’t look good. Go.”

Sungyeol searched Woohyun’s face to see if he really meant it, and to his surprise, Woohyun did. He squeezed Woohyun’s arm in thanks, and jogged off in the direction Myungsoo had taken. He made it all the way to the ground floor without seeing him, and neither was he in the Great Hall – Sungyeol even wandered down to the kitchens in a futile attempt to see if Myungsoo had gone back to the Hufflepuff Basement, even though he knew that there was no way he was going to gain entry to be able to check. Most students were in the Great Hall for dinner by then, so no one was coming in or out - _this was ridiculous_.

He hadn’t thought Myungsoo would be the jealous-jump-to-conclusions type, but his face when Sungyeol had drawn back, still with Woohyun’s arms looped around his waist – that had not been a happy face. Myungsoo had to know that despite whatever he thought he’d just seen, Woohyun was just Sungyeol’s friend, right? Sungyeol talked about Woohyun enough for Myungsoo to know –

_Ohh. Oh, gods._

Sungyeol wanted to smack himself in the face. It was very possible that he had relied on talking about Woohyun a bit too much to cover up the awkward patches him and Myungsoo still encountered in their conversation here and there – Woohyun did a lot of absurd things, after all, which were always good for a laugh, but he hadn’t thought that he may have been talking about Woohyun so much to the point Myungsoo would actually get jealous. Woohyun was jealous about Myungsoo and Myungsoo was jealous about Woohyun – how absolutely _dumb_.

He gave up the search for the moment to go for dinner – his stomach was growling – and wedged himself in between Woohyun and Dongwoo once he’d found them. Dongwoo was delighted to see that Woohyun and Sungyeol were talking again, and very thoughtfully didn’t laugh when he heard what had happened with Myungsoo, which was typical sweet-hearted Dongwoo.

“You didn’t find him?” Woohyun asked, looking somewhat guilty. “He hasn’t come in for dinner, I’ve been keeping a look out.”

Sungyeol just shook his head and the other two took it upon themselves to try and lift his spirits by rambling on about whatever silly thing they could think of.

“Think of it this way,” Woohyun said cheerfully as the three of them left the Great Hall half an hour later. “If you break up, at least you’ll have more time to spend with me!”

Sungyeol just punched him. “You’re back to normal, I see,” he said flatly.

“Dongwoo,” Woohyun complained, nursing the arm Sungyeol had punched. Dongwoo raised his hands, shaking his head.

“You deserved that one, dumbass.”

*

Sungyeol bombarded Myungsoo with notes of apology and enquiry the moment he got back to his dorm and the next morning when he got up – none of which got a reply, and the wait until he could see Myungsoo in Potions after lunch was excruciating. Not that he could try to communicate with him across a room full of students with Snape hovering around breathing down all their necks as he tried to complete his practice worksheet on something that made no sense to him, of course. To compound this, he remembered with a jolt that him and Woohyun hadn’t come up with a plan B for their project, to be handed in the week after; his life just got better and better.

They were supposed to meet that afternoon as usual in their normal spot, but Myungsoo had just given him a small wave and short smile when Potions ended and disappeared with his friends. Sungyeol was ready to tear out his hair. What did it _mean?_  Myungsoo ignored his notes, but still waved him goodbye after class, and then didn’t show up for their ‘date’ – study date or whatever date or not-even-a-date, Sungyeol was screwed if he knew anymore. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, feeling for the first time that Woohyun was right – he’d rushed things with Myungsoo and he didn’t really know him all that well, after all. Fighting with Woohyun was different; he knew exactly why Woohyun was mad even if he thought Woohyun was stupid for being mad in the first place, but with Myungsoo he was completely at sea. He _thought_  Myungsoo was jealous about what had happened the night before, but he couldn’t even begin to understand the mixed signals Myungsoo’d sent him today.

The Hufflepuff-Gryffindor game was on _Monday_. If they didn’t sort things out now there was no way Sungyeol was going to be able to fly near acceptably, not with Myungsoo on the pitch right there with him and the weight of this misunderstanding hanging between them. For Merlin’s sake, they weren’t even together yet!

He got up to leave, and when he opened the door Myungsoo was standing right outside it like in one of those Muggle comedies. Surprise turned to embarrassment turned to resolve all in a few moments on Myungsoo’s face as they stood there gaping at each other, and finally Myungsoo nudged Sungyeol back into the classroom, letting the door swing shut behind them.

“Sungyeol, firstly, I’m sorry,” he said, words rushing out once more, as if the faster he got them out the easier it would be to say them. Sungyeol didn’t know whether to stand or sit, so he compromised by leaning against a table. “This is going to sound really pathetic to you, and I’m completely aware of that but I hope you can understand.”

Sungyeol began to panic even as he tried to stop his heart from pounding so hard. _He wasn’t being_  dumped, _was he?_

“Um, Myungsoo, before you say anything, I just want you to know that Woohyun is really just my best friend. Nothing more, at all,” Sungyeol jumped in. “I know you’re probably jealous, but what you saw last night was completely… friend… ish. No funny business.”

Myungsoo blinked, nonplussed. “I know.”

“You – what?” Sungyeol stammered, feeling thoroughly wrongfooted. “You know?”

“I know you and Woohyun are just friends,” Myungsoo repeated, puzzled.

“Oh,” Sungyeol said intelligently. “Then…?”

Myungsoo sighed and hesitated for a moment, marshalling his thoughts. “I know you’ve noticed that I get a bit jumpy when you touch me,” he started, tips of his ears predictably reddening. “And it’s not because I don’t want you to. Touch me.” He squeezed his eyes shut before he carried on, as if he just couldn’t live with himself at the moment. “It’s because I want to touch you too much. I can’t even think sometimes around you because I just want to be holding you, or-. I need that. I mean, I don’t do it to my friends because they get weirded out when I try to hug them or just play with their hair and stuff and – I’ve been told that I don’t know my limits,” he paused to give a nervous laugh. “Fuck, I sound like a pervert.”

Sungyeol raised his eyebrows at this, the first time he’d heard Myungsoo swear outright. Myungsoo had dropped his face into his hands, apparently too mortified to carry on.

“Um, so… last night with Woohyun…?” Sungyeol prompted, completely unsure where all this was going, but so far he really liked the sound of Myungsoo saying he wanted to touch him too.

“When I saw you two together, I just – I really don’t know. A part of me was kind of jealous at how good you looked together, you know, so comfortable with each other, but – mostly I was just upset that he got to hold you like that when I can’t even bring myself to make the first move to get closer, you know? And I don’t want to scare you off, because – I can be really needy,” he finished, voice barely above a whisper. He forced himself to look up at Sungyeol, fingers picking unconsciously over and over at the same spot on his school robes.

“I mean, I know we hardly know each other and we’re not even really together, and I handled this really fucking badly,” he continued, taking a deep breath. “Oh, Merlin. I know how crazy all this sounds, and I completely understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”

Sungyeol pursed his lips together, watching Myungsoo watch him earnestly. “Okay,” he said slowly. “One, from now on, we have to tell each other things. Whatever we’re feeling, and if we’re not happy about something. Keeping it inside obviously doesn’t help.” Myungsoo nodded readily, ashamed.

“Two, you need to be better friends with Dongwoo. He’d let you hug and hang off him all day long if you wanted.”

Myungsoo let out a surprised laugh at this. “Really?”

“Really. And Dongwoo hugs are the best kind of hugs.” Myungsoo smiled at this, defeated expression lifting somewhat.

“Three, I have no idea why you swearing is so hot.”

Myungsoo’s hand jumped to his mouth. “I try not to do it but it slips out sometimes.”

“It doesn’t matter. Do whatever you want around me, that’s kind of the point. Which brings me to four…” Sungyeol trailed off, opening his arms wide in invitation.

Myungsoo bit his lip, letting what Sungyeol had just said sink in. He took one halting step forward, and then another, eyes not leaving Sungyeol’s until he was close enough to bury his face in Sungyeol’s neck, Sungyeol’s arms coming round to hold him as he stood in between Sungyeol’s legs. He circled Sungyeol’s waist with his own arms, feeling the warmth of Sungyeol’s body seep through his school robes into his skin as Sungyeol tightened his hold on him, pulling him closer. Sungyeol smelled of books, and ink, and something that was uniquely his own; Myungsoo had caught whiffs of his scent before when Sungyeol had been close to him, but being surrounded by it as Sungyeol held him near was a different thing altogether. He breathed it in deep, hands flattening against Sungyeol’s back to feel him, his eyelashes fluttering ticklishly against Sungyeol’s neck making Sungyeol chuckle, the sound intimate and deep. The relief that coursed through him at the feel of their bodies against each other was almost tangible – warm heat tinged with a hint of something undeniably sexual.

“It’s ridiculous, but I really like you,” Myungsoo whispered into Sungyeol’s skin, Sungyeol’s hands finding their way underneath the school robes to caress his back. “I don’t even know why.”

“Thanks a lot, Myungsoo,” Sungyeol said, feeling Myungsoo shake soundlessly in a responding laugh. Myungsoo’s body was warm and firm underneath his robes, and whatever he washed his hair with smelled amazing. Sungyeol closed his eyes and just let himself enjoy the feel of Myungsoo in his arms and under his hands. He stroked a hand through Myungsoo’s hair to play with the ends at the nape, caressing the soft skin there and loving how Myungsoo was the perfect height to fit just nicely into him. He was sure Myungsoo could feel how fast his heart was going, Myungsoo’s warm breath on his neck and hands moving over his back – finally, _finally_  – making his pulse jump with the knowledge of how easily he could just move slightly and capture Myungsoo’s mouth with his, and valiantly tried to ignore how turned on he was becoming, his blood and teenaged hormones racing through him starting to chant something that sounded very much like _sexsexsexsexsex_.

Myungsoo drew back slightly to look at him, eyes darting for an instant to Sungyeol’s mouth and then back up to Sungyeol's eyes; what he wanted written blatantly on his face but waiting for Sungyeol to show he wanted it too. Sungyeol brought the hand at Myungsoo’s nape up to cup his cheek, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. Myungsoo was _so close_ , his face only inches from Sungyeol’s own.

The doorknob jostled once or twice, and the two of them sprang apart. Only then did Sungyeol remember they’d forgotten to lock the door, and Sungyeol forced his face into something approaching nonchalance as the door opened, someone he vaguely recognized as a Slytherin third or fourth-year poking her head into the room.

“Oh, sorry!” The girl apologized, closing the door again after seeing that the room was already occupied, barely even looking at their faces.

Myungsoo had his hand over his heart, letting out the breath he’d been holding. “Oh, Merlin.”

Sungyeol swallowed, chills running down his body as he thought of how close they’d been to getting caught. _Always lock the damn door, Sungyeol!_

He looked at Myungsoo sheepishly, the moment lost, but Myungsoo grinned back at him anyway. It felt like a great weight had been lifted off the both of their shoulders now they’d talked, Myungsoo’s smile widening as Sungyeol walked over to cup his cheek once more; no more blushing or uncomfortable fidgeting, Sungyeol was glad to see.

“I’m going to need to spend a bit more time with Woohyun, Myungsoo,” Sungyeol told him. “What all that yesterday was about was that he’s kind of jealous of you. He thinks I’m forgetting about him and he becomes a huge pain in the ass when he’s feeling insecure.”

“Oh! Sure, of course,” Myungsoo agreed, looking surprised. “He’s your best friend, I understand.”

“Or we could all start hanging out together, you know,” Sungyeol suggested. “You could get to know Dongwoo better, and that way Woohyun won’t feel left out. I’d like for you two to be friends, too.”

Myungsoo made a strange amused face at him. “Am I meeting the in-laws?” Sungyeol made a face right back at him.

“We should slow things down, huh?” He asked, remembering Woohyun’s nagging voice. _Boy, you crazy._  “We haven’t even known each other a month.”

“Hmm,” Myungsoo pretended to think. “No.” He grinned, Sungyeol mock-rolling his eyes at him. “I like you. You like me. We still have a long way to go in getting to know each other, but I don’t think this is just a phase. Is it just a crush for you?” Myungsoo looked suddenly serious.

“I think… that if it was just a crush I would have run three miles away the moment you started getting weird on me,” Sungyeol answered honestly, only realizing it was true as the words came out of his mouth. “Gods, I think I really like you.”

“Well don’t sound so horrified,” Myungsoo scolded, smooshing his cheek into Sungyeol’s palm, then removing it from his face so that he could hold it with both of his. “No more weirdness, I promise.”

“Better not be or Huff, you are _out_  of here,” Sungyeol joked, ending up in a shoving match with Myungsoo.

Woohyun was back to being his normal irrepressible self and things were better than ever with Myungsoo; all in all, life was pretty damn good.

*


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so apparently ao3 doesn't support coloured text - so i've had to edit a bit. the part at the start of the chapter is actually supposed to show them 'texting' in different colours.

_I’m glad you guys are comfortable enough around us to be doing that. NOT._ The words appeared in green ink on the page of Sungyeol’s Charms textbook he was reading, Woohyun’s handwriting scrawling over his own hastily-jotted-down notes in the margins.

Sungyeol grinned inwardly, getting out his own Lettering quill in order to answer. He was lying on the L-shaped couch they’d transfigured from the old desks and chairs in their usual empty classroom, propped up against Myungsoo’s side such that his feet pointed straight at Woohyun and Dongwoo on the other limb of the couch. Myungsoo chose right then to wriggle his left arm out from behind Sungyeol’s back to drape it across his chest, probably more for Myungsoo’s own comfort more than anything –

 _BARF_  
_BARF_  
 _BARF_

appeared on Sungyeol’s page.

 _Jealous!_ Sungyeol wrote back, muttering ‘mittite Woohyun’ under his breath and seeing the words fade off his own page in order to appear on Woohyun’s.

_W: No, disgusted. If I’d known you two were going to be so gross around each other I’d never have come to this ‘study session’._

_S: It’s not even like we’re making out!_

_W: I will kill you both and drop you in the Black Lake if you start doing that_

_D: what are you both lettering about? leaving me out :(_

_W: I’m just telling Yeol how I’m going to need to wash out my eyeballs after all these public displays of affection._

_D: YOU BOTH ARE SO CUTE I CAN’T STAND IT!!!_

_S: See, Woohyun, Dongwoo thinks we’re cute._

_W: That’s because Dongwoo is a fat little baby puppy wrapped up in cotton candy wrapped up in hearts and cupids and chocolate. Of course he’d find your disgustingness cute._

_S: HAHAH_

_D: was i just insulted? i can’t tell._

_S: Just because your soul is a black hole, Woohyun…_

_W: Dongwoo if you ever finally score with that ravenclaw and start doing this with her in front of me too I’m going to kill everybody._

_S: I think you need to get laid._

_W: Look at this loser talking about getting laid like everyone in here isn’t a virgin._

_D: have you guys kissed yet? :DDDD_

_W: I DON’T WANT TO KNOW_

_S: You are the biggest liar on earth, Woohyun. And no, we haven’t :(_

_W: We’ll get going then! Leave you two alone so you guys can go do whatever sickeningly mushy things you want to do. BYEEE_

_D: woohyun after that massive sulkfest you were in last week cos yeol wasn’t paying enough attention to you now you want yeol to spend time with myungsoo over you?_

_S: THANK YOU DONGWOO. Woohyun, your reply?_

_W: …Maybe I really do need to get a girlfriend._

_S: But guys, seriously, he’s nice, right? you like him?_

_D: i’ve always liked him!_

__W: Of course, Yeol._ _

“What are you guys doing?” asked Myungsoo, amused at how the three of them were trying to look innocent, Lettering quills held obviously in their hands and still on the same page in their books they were at nearly ten minutes ago.

“Gossipping about me?” He teased, enjoying the uncomfortable look of deer-caught-in-the-headlights on Sungyeol’s face. “It’s time to go, anyway. Dinner’s going to be soon.”

The three of them packed up gratefully, wondering why none of them were better at lying. Myungsoo didn’t seem put out, though – even though they’d clearly been talking about something to do with him he seemed to take it on faith that they weren’t leaving him out on purpose and hadn’t demanded to know what they’d been talking about. _Every day, something new to endear Myungsoo to him further_ , Sungyeol thought.

“You can ask Luna and Junghwan to come study with us, too,” Sungyeol told Myungsoo as they prepared to part at the stairs, Dongwoo nudging Woohyun ahead first so that they could have a moment before they separated for the day. “I mean, I should probably meet them. I promise to charm their socks off.”

“Oh, um,” Myungsoo began, but Sungyeol had already seen the immediate reluctance in his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t… told them… yet.”

“Why?” Sungyeol asked, Myungsoo again doing that thing when he was uneasy where he looked at everything but Sungyeol. “Where do they think you’re going everyday?”

“I mean, they know I’ve become friends with you guys,” Myungsoo said hurriedly. “And I’ve said I’ve been needing quiet time to study, but I don’t know if they suspect anything.”

“Myungsoo,” Sungyeol said firmly, making Myungsoo look at him. “You haven’t answered me. Why haven’t you told them?”

Myungsoo looked miserable. “I don’t know if they’ll take it well,” he replied, looking for all the world like he wanted to take his words back.

“You mean they’re – because I’m a boy? They’re your friends, Myungsoo, I’m sure they will understand.”

“They’ve never said anything against it,” Myungsoo tried to explain. “But – they’ve never said anything about them being okay with relationships like this, either. And Junghwan really doesn’t like it when I try to hug him and stuff – I don’t know. They’re my closest friends, they mean so much to me.”

“Don’t I mean something to you?” Sungyeol frowned, stung. Myungsoo’s eyes widened at that, and he reached out immediately for Sungyeol.

“I didn’t mean –“

“So you want to keep me a secret from them?” Sungyeol knew he was being unfair and the horrified look on Myungsoo’s face at Sungyeol’s offended tone made him feel like a total bastard, but his pride had latched on to the fact that Myungsoo would rather keep their relationship hidden than tell his own best friends – how long was this supposed to go on? He couldn’t stop himself from feeling that it had to be because he was simply less important; he had braved his own best friend’s jealousy to be with Myungsoo, and he told himself he didn’t care who else found out. His heart sank, something bitter taking its place.

“I’m going to tell them! Just not yet, please, I have to think about how to do it-”

“And if they can’t accept it?” Sungyeol asked quietly, hurt always making him try to hurt back. “You’ll stop seeing me?” Sungyeol could almost taste the rejection in his mouth.

“I never said that, Sungyeol,” Myungsoo pleaded. “Try to understand. Not everybody has friends like you do.” Myungsoo sent him one last long look of disappointment and turned to leave, effectively ending the conversation.

Sungyeol watched Myungsoo until he disappeared down the stairs, the chaos in his head underlined by insistent guilt he tried to ignore.

*

The day of the Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor game dawned bright – one of those days where the air smelled amazing and just being out in the crisp sunshine was enough to lift your spirits. It was the antithesis to everything Sungyeol was feeling – his footsteps towards the Quidditch pitch couldn’t have been more leaden.

He hadn’t spoken to Myungsoo since their quarrel four days ago, doing everything he hated Woohyun to do to him when they were in a fight; his pride being the main stumbling block. Every time he thought of contacting Myungsoo to apologise or talk about it – and he’d thought about it a lot – all it took was the thought that he wasn’t as important to Myungsoo as his friends ; and he did nothing.

He went through his warmup and drills clinically. His heart was so far from being in it that this long-awaited game, so looked-forward to because he’d be flying with Myungsoo – he hadn’t even thought about it as flying _against_ Myungsoo – now was the last thing he wanted to do.

He saw Woohyun among the early birds in the stands on the Gryffindor side, sitting alone for once.

“Woohyun,” he called from the air, and Woohyun gave him a wave back. “Where’s Dongwoo?”

Woohyun gave him a look, and Sungyeol found he already knew the answer. “He _is_ a Hufflepuff, Yeol.” _And he’s mad at you, so there’s no way he’d cheer for you over his own house, anyway._

Dongwoo being angry with you was like your favourite chocolate tasting bitter in your mouth, or a loyal puppy you’ve known all your life refusing to let you pet it – unthinkable up to the point it happens, and thereafter wholly disconcerting and depressing. He’d demanded to know why Myungsoo had become extra quiet and broody, refusing Dongwoo’s invitations to breakfast or conversation; and when Sungyeol had tried to defend himself Dongwoo had just given him this long stare that showed everything he felt about the matter.

 

_“Dongwoo, try to see it my way. He doesn’t even want-”_

_“Yeol, shut up.”_

_Sungyeol’s eyes widened, and he sat down involuntarily on the stone bench nearby from surprise. He had never, ever heard Dongwoo use that tone on anyone._

_“I’m going to tell you something about Myungsoo and his friends that I probably should have told you earlier, so you better listen. When Myungsoo was in first year he was really quiet. You think he’s quiet now? Nothing compared to when he was eleven. I made friends really easily, but he didn’t. I tried talking to him a few times but he was so shy and so awkward that after a while I thought he just didn’t want to be friends with me, which was fine. But then he found Luna and Junghwan – and he just seemed to blossom, or something. He started smiling a lot more, and talking in class. I even heard him laugh for the first time only after he started being friends with them. Those three are some of the seriously nicest people I’ve ever known – I’m not close with them, because I’ve got you and Woohyun, but honestly? I would like to be. Everybody should be friends with them, but that’s not the point. When Myungsoo’s dad got sick two – no, three years ago-”_

_“Wait, what’s wrong with his dad?”_

_Dongwoo paused. “He didn’t tell you?”_

_Sungyeol shook his head, feeling out of his depth. Woohyun was right, he didn’t really know Myungsoo at all._

_“He should tell you that, not me. I only know because he disappeared for two weeks in the middle of the semester and everybody ends up knowing one another’s drama in Hufflepuff, our year’s batch was so small. But anyway, bottomline: they pulled him through it. Everyone could see how they basically stuck to him like glue during that time, he was never without at least one of them. He looked half-dead most days, but they helped him. And here you are, making him choose between them and you?”_

_“I never said I wanted him to choose!” Sungyeol protested._

_“That’s what you’re doing, Yeol. You’re not giving him time to think of how to break the news to them, and you’re basically not giving him any options. You more or less ordered him to tell them, and if they can’t accept it, too bad for them, because you are clearly more important.”_

_Sungyeol’s frowned as he let that revelation sink in slowly, waves of shame from Dongwoo’s words prompting him to try to salvage some face. “If they’re such great friends as you say why is Myungsoo so scared to tell them? It shouldn’t even be an issue.”_

_“Maybe it isn’t, but Myungsoo doesn’t know that,” Dongwoo replied, as if explaining to a young child. “He obviously isn’t sure what they think about two boys together, and so he’s scared. If he lost them Myungsoo would just die, Sungyeol. You’re different – you are you no matter what and you don’t really care what other people think most of the time. You can’t expect him to be the same.”_

_Sungyeol looked up at Dongwoo, trying to make his regret show as much as possible on his face. “Why am I so stupid?”_

_“It’s your temper,” Dongwoo said, getting up to leave. “You don’t think things through, you just react.”_

_Sungyeol half-got up to follow Dongwoo back to the castle, but Dongwoo started walking away without a look back – Sungyeol sat down again, stunned. He’d thought that Dongwoo wouldn’t be angry anymore after their talk; clearly he had more making up to do than just looking penitent._

 

Myungsoo looked straight ahead when it was finally time for the lineup before the whistle, the stands full to bursting with excited students and earsplitting roars of lion hats from the Gryffindor side. The Hufflepuffs had brought their brass band with them, so the Red lions roared to the Huff clash of cymbals and blasts of their trumpets, and for the first time, Sungyeol found all the noise annoying, frustrating in their obstruction of his thoughts. Myungsoo didn’t look at him even casually, although Sungyeol thought he had to be able to feel the weight of Sungyeol’s stare on his face. _Look at me, Myungsoo, look at me_. He’d thought of sending Myungsoo an apology note early in the morning so he’d get it the moment he woke up, but decided it would be better to try to talk to him personally before the game; he should have known Myungsoo wouldn’t give him that opportunity. It wasn’t that Myungsoo was stubborn, but – no, actually, Myungsoo was just that stubborn.

Sungyeol forced himself to get his head in the game. They’d talk when everything was over, and he’d show Myungsoo how sorry he was and if he was lucky Myungsoo would forgive him and wouldn’t think he was hopeless. Right now, he had to focus. It wouldn’t do to drop points just because of his own private conflicts; he owed that to his team, even if it meant scoring points against Myungsoo. Sungyeol grimaced. If he looked like he was trying really hard to score would Myungsoo take it as some sort of affront?

Harry was in position next to him this time, again looking nervous to the point of throwing up. It really didn’t help that Myungsoo’s face was set in one of his intense stares, dark eyes seeming to look right through Harry; Sungyeol saw Harry gulp.

The whistle blew, and the game began.

Hufflepuff, it became clear after half an hour or so, was having a really bad day; Gryffindor’s points on the scoreboard leapt into the hundreds after only twenty minutes, while Hufflepuff’s stayed in the double digits well after Gryffindor had easily broken three hundred. Sungyeol didn’t know if Darius was just having the game of his life and defending his heart out or the Hufflepuff chasers had taken bribes to throw the game – and then immediately realized the absurdity of his thoughts; it was Hufflepuff, not Ravenclaw or Slytherin – but whatever it was, Sungyeol was starting to get panicky. Myungsoo was combing the pitch with a single-minded determination, and as the points gap got larger the more desperate the cries aimed at Myungsoo from the Hufflepuff stands became. Sungyeol didn’t want to help thrash Hufflepuff – he’d already made eight scores – because he was pretty sure the path to reconciliation would be a lot smoother if Myungsoo didn’t have to bear the burden of finding the snitch too late to save the game, or worse, not finding the snitch at all. Hufflepuff or not, Myungsoo took Quidditch rather personally.

And then Sungyeol saw it – the tiny golden wings fluttering from the corner of his eye. The snitch was hovering near the middle Hufflepuff goal, but Harry was at the other end of the pitch; Myungsoo, however, was only thirty metres away, looking in the opposite direction; Sungyeol was torn, horrified at himself at even the thought of betraying his own team in order to help matters with Myungsoo. It wasn’t as if there was any way he could try to communicate with Myungsoo to let him know where the snitch was, anyway – he couldn’t call out to him, and he couldn’t do it by magic; he supposed he could have turned Myungsoo’s broom around if he had his wand with him, but the players and their brooms were all enchanted with a full-body version of a self-renewing Finite Incantatem spell so that they couldn’t be bewitched during play. He couldn’t break formation to go to Myungsoo, either, because apart from Darius noticing (Darius noticed _everything_ ) the whole stadium would too, and despite his own claims to the contrary he wasn’t ready to have the whole school talking about how the Gryffindor chaser had gone to talk to the Hufflepuff seeker in the middle of the game which led to the Huff seeker finding the snitch immediately afterwards. Maybe he could try to whack the snitch over to Myungsoo with his broom if he could think of a way to make it inconspicuous enough –

The quaffle literally flew past his face, Sungyeol blinking at the sound of exasperated shouts from Angie who had thrown it to him to catch. Sungyeol tried to keep up, turning around to see if he could still intercept it, but it was too late. The Hufflepuff keeper had got it, and it was already in the possession of the Hufflepuff chasers, racing towards the Gryffindor goals. However, one good thing had come out of Sungyeol’s mistake; Myungsoo had seen the glinting of gold, his face lighting up as he streaked towards it. He was a blur of yellow and black lightning as he chased the snitch, the little ball trying to escape as fast as it could; but Harry noticed Myungsoo’s sudden speed as had the screaming crowd, and was racing his way over to him. Sungyeol for the first time felt less than charitable towards their new seeker, huge green eyes notwithstanding.

Hufflepuff stood at 170, Gryffindor 320. The best Hufflepuff could hope for was a draw; the worst would be their most humiliating loss in years.

Myungsoo and Harry were almost neck and neck, Myungsoo with an advantage of several inches over the first year and therefore closer to the snitch – but Harry flew like he didn’t care if he ended up in the infirmary, pushing closer to Myungsoo and crouching as if he wasn’t beyond launching himself off his broom and at the snitch if he needed to. The Huff chasers took this moment of distraction to try to score, and Sungyeol and the beaters were screamed into action by Kyung. The cheers that erupted throughout the stadium as Sungyeol and Angie executed a Woollonggong Shimmy to block the Hufflepuff chaser going for goal high above the drama unfolding below filled Sungyeol with heart-thumping apprehension – did Harry beat Myungsoo to it?

He looked down to see Myungsoo racing victoriously ahead with the snitch held high to unbridled celebrations on the Hufflepuff side, Harry slumping behind Myungsoo as his speed cooled off, and Sungyeol didn’t know whether to feel happy or upset. They hadn’t lost, anyway – they were tied now, and Myungsoo had gotten the snitch first; Sungyeol supposed that all in all things had rather ended on the plus side.

Until Darius called them all in for a debriefing that lasted nearly two hours, spending no small amount of those two hours berating Sungyeol for missing Angie’s throw because if he’d caught the quaffle and made the goal Gryffindor could have won the game, if only by ten points. Sungyeol stayed quiet, accepting responsibility for his carelessness; there wasn’t anything he could say in his defence, as he doubted trying to explain that his boyfriend being happy was more important at the moment than a win this early in the season would have held any water with Darius.

There it was – he’d finally let himself think it. _Boyfriend. Myungsoo, my boyfriend._ It was still weird to him, _booyyffrrieeendd_ , but the more he thought about it the more he liked it. Not that Myungsoo was, yet, in reality; Sungyeol had no idea if he had to formally ask Myungsoo to be his boyfriend or if things would just naturally slide into boyfriend territory after a while – Sungyeol gave up. It was too complicated.

“Sungyeol, are you even listening to me?” Darius demanded, and Sungyeol tried his best to feign serious attention. Darius went on to increase their training to four times a week now because their next game was Slytherin and they couldn’t afford another repeat performance of today, even if they’d been way ahead on points the majority of the game. Harry looked miserable, a fact that hadn’t escaped Darius – he still told Harry he was expecting better from now on if Harry didn’t want them all to think his first win was just a fluke.

Sungyeol sent Harry a sympathetic look as he hurried out of the locker room, Darius’ debriefing finally over. The pitch was empty as expected, and he was stumped for a moment as to where he could find Myungsoo. If he was in the Hufflepuff basement celebrating with the others there was no telling when he’d be out, and Sungyeol didn’t want to drag him away from his friends at dinner – he decided to chance it and send Myungsoo a note. If he didn’t reply or wasn’t free to meet up now then Sungyeol would just try again after dinner, and again and again until he answered. He looked at his depleting store of enchanted message notes – he sure was spending a lot of them on misunderstandings with Myungsoo.

Sungyeol hurried to their meeting place – he had come to think of the classroom as theirs – and quickly scribbled two notes, one to Woohyun telling him where he’d been for the past two hours and where he was now, and the other to Myungsoo, asking him to meet him in their spot so that he could apologise. The two notes fluttered off, Sungyeol sending a speeding charm after them to make sure they didn’t take their own sweet time getting to their intended recipients. He tucked his wand back into his robes and settled down to wait for Myungsoo. He was prepared to grovel – he wasn’t too proud to beg when he was so clearly in the wrong; he at least had that going for him. He gave himself a mental reminder to thank Dongwoo for setting him straight – and for being so supportive the entire way, actually. Being enthusiastic about Myungsoo, warning him about Woohyun getting jealous, and now bothering to help explain why Sungyeol was being such a massive idiot even though technically it didn’t really affect him if Sungyeol and Myungsoo worked things out or not – Dongwoo really was an amazing friend.

Sungyeol was still choosing the exact words to use to apologise to Myungsoo when the door opened quietly, Myungsoo slipping into the room.

“I left the Hufflepuff team celebration for this,” Myungsoo faced him squarely, _don’t waste my time_ going unsaid.

Sungyeol’s head snapped up, and everything he’d prepared to say flew out the window. He stood up to make his way over to where Myungsoo was standing with his arms crossed by the door, Myungsoo’s expectant eyes never leaving him.

“I’m sorry,” Sungyeol said, fighting through the embarrassment he felt at his own actions. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. Take as much time as you want to tell them.”

“And if I never tell them?” Myungsoo challenged, face serious but softer.

Sungyeol forced himself to be calm and think, not react first, as Dongwoo had said. “I think that you should eventually tell them – you shouldn’t have to hide from your own best friends. But they are your friends, and you know best.” Sungyeol swallowed, not at all sure that was the right thing to say.

 “I suppose that’s an improvement,” Myungsoo said, looking quizzically at Sungyeol. “At the very least, all this is teaching us important things about each other, no?”

“Well, I hope that you see that I’m just as ready to apologise when I’m in the wrong as I am quick to say stupid things because I jump to conclusions?” Sungyeol tried. “And that while I overreact sometimes it’s usually because I care a lot about the matter at hand.”

“Why is it important to you that people know about us, Sungyeol?” Myungsoo asked, dropping his arms to adopt a more open stance, the gesture not going unnoticed by Sungyeol.

“Because… don’t get me wrong, I’m not stupid enough to think that we could broadcast this and expect everyone to be okay with it, or not care if people got nasty,” Sungyeol said slowly, “But you’re important to me. And I want the other people who are important to me to know that you are, too. I know we’re just starting out, but I’m quite sure of my feelings for you. I don’t want to hide you.”

“How can you be so sure, Sungyeol?” Myungsoo asked, grabbing the front of Sungyeol’s shirt gently in mock-frustration. “Making a relationship work is so much more complicated than liking someone.”

Sungyeol thought of the times they’d been together in the short month they’d known each other – missing Myungsoo when they were apart, genuinely enjoying their talks about everything under the sun, how he felt like he wanted to burst whenever Myungsoo touched him; they could break up next month, for all he knew. Maybe it really was all just a very powerful crush that could evaporate at any time – he couldn’t blame Myungsoo for being cautious.

“It feels right,” Sungyeol said, relying on inexplicable honesty when all else failed. “You feel right.”

Myungsoo sighed, looking at him, and finally smiled despite himself. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me on my win today?” he said, Sungyeol letting out an internal whoop that the whole thing had ended with Myungsoo still standing smiling in front of him, quite emphatically not hating Sungyeol.

“Okay,” Sungyeol said, and went for it. Myungsoo’s small surprised gasp when Sungyeol kissed him made Sungyeol’s heart flip, his arms coming around to hold Myungsoo against him so that not just their lips were touching. Myungsoo’s hands came to rest on Sungyeol’s biceps, one sliding up into Sungyeol’s hair to play with it as they kissed – Sungyeol didn’t know if it was because of Myungsoo’s nervousness that demanded an outlet through the movement of his fingers. It was slow, and new, and while the kiss itself was probably quite unremarkable as first kisses went Myungsoo still felt like his body was burning up and icy cold at the same time.

Sungyeol kissed Myungsoo with all the limited experience of his sixteen years; he knew he probably wasn’t going to win any awards for kissing, and so struggled with the need to bowl Myungsoo over in favour of exploring Myungsoo’s mouth. His lips were soft against his, and had opened readily to let Sungyeol in; the feel of Myungsoo’s breath warm against his cheek and the small ways he moved his head as they kissed and how Sungyeol knew without a doubt that his ears were flaming red near-undoing Sungyeol.

The pain when it ripped through Sungyeol was so unexpected that he had to struggle for breath as he sank to the floor, Myungsoo’s eyes flying open at Sungyeol’s strangled gasp and instinctively grabbing at his arms to try to hold him upright as his knees gave out. The spasms wracking Sungyeol’s body made Myungsoo lose his grip, Sungyeol collapsing to the floor.

“Sungyeol?” Myungsoo asked urgently, scrambling to kneel down beside Sungyeol on the floor as Sungyeol scrabbled at the stone flagstones for purchase, the other hand pressed to his stomach. Another surge of pain tore through him and Sungyeol couldn’t help the cry that fell from his lips, panting as the pressure in his abdomen grew.

Myungsoo whipped out his wand, uselessly pointing it at all four corners of the room in case someone was concealed in them. He cast spell after spell for the revelation of magic around the two of them to see if he could find out what was happening to Sungyeol, but another hoarse cry from Sungyeol made him stop and focus his attention on Sungyeol instead. His hands shaking, he tried every pain-relieving spell he knew, but when the blood began to soak through Sungyeol’s pristine school shirt the wand dropped nervelessly from Myungsoo’s fingers.

It bloomed across Sungyeol’s shirt from his collarbones right down to his thighs, Myungsoo’s terrified gaze following the dark patches as they appeared. Sungyeol’s face had gone white, one hand fisted tight into Myungsoo’s shirt.

“Get… someone…” Sungyeol ground out breathlessly, but Myungsoo was paralysed with shock and indecision. Leave Sungyeol here alone and run to get a teacher even though he had no idea where anybody was, or try somehow to bring Sungyeol with him to the infirmary? He didn’t know if he could keep a levitation charm steady at the pace they needed to move –

Woohyun opened the classroom door, poking his head in to see if Sungyeol and Myungsoo were inside; belatedly, Myungsoo registered through the haze of panic in his brain that there had been a knocking on the door for the past minute. “Sungyeol?” Woohyun was calling out, but immediately stopped short, staring at Sungyeol and Myungsoo on the floor. Dongwoo followed him, shocked cry falling from his lips as he rushed to Sungyeol’s side.

Sungyeol was almost covered in blood by then, Myungsoo’s hands too from where he had tried to staunch the flow from Sungyeol’s chest.

“Woohyun,” Myungsoo choked out, word turning into a sob.

Woohyun drew his wand and levelled it at Myungsoo, chest heaving. “Get away from him,” he said, the look on his face chilling.

“Woohyun, no,” Myungsoo held out his shaking hands, Sungyeol’s blood running slowly down his wrists. “Please, get help, he needs-”

Woohyun’s shouted _Incarcerous_ knocked Myungsoo backwards the same time Dongwoo screamed at Woohyun to stop.

Sungyeol’s eyes fluttered closed.

*


	8. Chapter 8

Dongwoo threw Woohyun the angriest look Woohyun had ever seen Dongwoo give anyone – _“What are you doing!”_ – before snatching his own wand out of his robes to release Myungsoo from his bonds. Trying to be as careful as possible, Dongwoo picked the unconscious Sungyeol up in a fireman’s carry then simply ran out of the room with him, roughly shouldering Woohyun aside to get out the door without another backwards glance. Woohyun staggered, having to hold out his hand to steady himself against the wall as his head swam – he locked eyes with Myungsoo on the floor and saw the same blind panic and confusion there.

“I’m sorry,” Woohyun gasped out, “Myungsoo, I’m sorry-”

Myungsoo scrambled to his feet and grabbed Woohyun, pushing him out the door before him without a word. In a daze, Woohyun looked at the smudges of blood on his own shirt from Myungsoo’s hands - _Sungyeol’s blood_. They ran stumbling after Dongwoo, uselessly wondering why they hadn’t thought of doing the same – just picking Sungyeol up somehow and getting him to the infirmary as fast as possible instead of casting stupid pain-relief spells, why finding someone to blame for Sungyeol bleeding out onto the floor had been seemingly more important than saving Sungyeol’s life.

Students stopped to stare and point urgently as the four of them passed, Sungyeol’s blood on all of them – it was soaking through Dongwoo’s robes where Sungyeol was slumped over Dongwoo’s shoulder, and Myungsoo had to force his trembling legs to keep running mindlessly.

Madam Pomfrey never asked useless questions in situations like these – it wasn’t every day that students came into the infirmary looking like they’d been sliced open but Hogwarts was dangerous enough at times that broken bones and ugly hexes needing immediate attention were commonplace. She led them instantly to an empty bed the moment the four of them burst into the small hospital, sharp eyes taking note of Sungyeol’s unnatural pallor and how his robes were thoroughly wet with his own blood by that point. Her assistants helped Dongwoo put Sungyeol down onto the bed, Sungyeol’s head lolling back and limbs heavy.

“What happened?” she asked curtly, ripping open Sungyeol’s shirt to see what she was dealing with, and Myungsoo let out an involuntary sob. Woohyun’s hand lifted unconsciously halfway to his mouth and then hung there, forgotten, too horrified by the sight of his best friend’s mutilated chest and stomach to think of anything else.

One of Madam Pomfrey’s assistant healers brought bandages and vials of dittany to Sungyeol’s bedside, firmly but gently pushing Dongwoo aside and rushing off again to get hot water. Dongwoo stumbled back a few paces, face turned resolutely away from Sungyeol, Woohyun reaching out too slowly to catch him.

The wounds were deep; not too deep that they showed bone, but deep enough for Madam Pomfrey to suck in a low breath as she surveyed the damage, immediately casting Tergeo to help her see better without the slick blood still oozing from Sungyeol’s wounds.

She tried the stitching spell she used on most open wounds, but for some reason it wouldn’t stick – the sides of the gashes opened again the moment she closed them, beginning to bleed anew. Then a bloodclotting charm that didn’t work either, and then Tergeo again because of all the blood obscuring her view – they had never seen Madam Pomfrey flustered, but they could read it now in the severe knit of her brows and the stiff way she moved over Sungyeol’s body. She cast a glance back at her Healing Potions cabinet, tersely instructing one of the assistants to get her the Sanguis potion – Sungyeol had to get more blood in him before it was too late.

“I believe I asked you what happened,” Woohyun turned back to see her fixing the three of them with her usual stern expression, voice like a whip, and as if on cue, he and Dongwoo turned to Myungsoo.

“I didn’t do it, I swear,” Myungsoo said, shaking his head in short frantic bursts. “One moment we were – he was fine, and the next moment he cried out and fell to the floor. Then – then the bleeding started. There wasn’t anyone else in the classroom.”

Madam Pomfrey held him with her gaze for a moment before she called another Healer over sharply. “Get Professor Snape.”

“What?” Woohyun asked before he could stop himself. “Why-”

“All of you, out,” Madam Pomfrey pushed them, protesting, away from Sungyeol’s bedside as an assistant arrived, carefully bearing complicated-looking silver instruments and a large glass jar of something crimson – the word _Sanguis_ in faded black letters on the label the last thing Woohyun saw before they drew the curtains around Sungyeol’s bed.

“Stay here,” Madam Pomfrey ordered, pointing to a bed a distance away from Sungyeol’s, and then her expression softened, really looking at them a moment – “Professor Snape will know what to do,” she told them, voice low and soothing. “You should go wash up, the two of you.”

When she had gone back to Sungyeol’s bedside Myungsoo still hadn’t moved, Dongwoo already taking off his outer robes to stand in his shirt and pants, the sight of the red blood darkening over his shoulder a shock after the grey of his robes helping to conceal just how much Sungyeol had bled out onto him. Woohyun silently took Myungsoo’s hands, trying to get him to go wash them as Madam Pomfrey had said –

Myungsoo finally looked down for the first time at the dried and crusted blood on his hands – really let himself look – and felt the shaking start to return. He walked to the bathroom slowly, feeling as if he had abruptly dropped into a nightmare he couldn’t have expected in a million years. He washed his hands without really looking at them, seeing the water in the sink turn red only at the edges of his peripheral vision as it swirled down the drain – what had just happened? It was terrible magic, any fool could see that – the wounds refusing to close, the blood clotting at a pace too slow to be called normal – but who would want to hurt Sungyeol like that? _Why?_

His heart was still skittering in his chest even though Sungyeol was in the best hands he could be right now – _so much blood_. Myungsoo didn’t think he would ever forget the look of shock and pain on Sungyeol’s face the moment he had slid to the floor, up in that classroom that already seemed a world away.

When he returned not only Snape but the Headmistress was there as well, low singing or chanting in Snape’s voice coming from behind the curtain that separated them from Sungyeol at the same time Professor’s McGonagall’s higher, more urgent voice could be heard, talking fast. Woohyun and Dongwoo sat close to each other, not talking but gripping each other’s hands; Myungsoo’s heart broke to see them.

Myungsoo was no Ravenclaw, but he could put two and two together – if Snape had been called that meant they were dealing with the dark arts. Dark magic – he studied it because he had to, and the spells were fascinating, but he’d never even dreamed he’d see evidence of it in his own lifetime – Myungsoo shuddered, and tried to turn his scrambling thoughts to other things. He wondered where Professor Lupin was – why hadn’t they called him?

The low singing went on for a long time, healer assistants emerging in and out from the curtains to carry away blood-soaked bandages or bring in fresh new ones and full vials of dittany – how much dittany did they need? How bad was the scarring? But Myungsoo let himself take heart at that – if there was a need for dittany to reduce the scarring, that meant that Snape or McGonagall was making progress – there wouldn’t be any need for dittany if they were dealing with a corpse.

It seemed like an eternity before the singing stopped and they could see Snape’s feet step away from Sungyeol’s bed. Woohyun stood instantly, his free hand tightening into an anxious fist.

Snape and McGonagall pushed the curtains aside, and Myungsoo managed to catch a glimpse of the healers cutting Sungyeol out of his bloody clothes so that they could clean him properly, warm water mixed with antiseptic herbs and sterilised towels waiting nearby. Sungyeol was still unconscious, but the waves of relief that flooded through Myungsoo at the sight of him alive threatened to knock him over – there were angry red scars from his throat downwards, but they looked more like days-old scars, not fresh ones.

“He’s okay,” he breathed, more to himself than anything, and Dongwoo took a step towards Madam Pomfrey.

“Is he? Is he alright?”

“Tell me _exactly_ what happened,” Snape interrupted before Madam Pomfrey had a chance to answer. Myungsoo shrank a bit before Snape’s hard stare, a million things running through his mind. “Do not leave anything out.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Myungsoo faltered, finding no comfort in the lined and set expression of the Headmistress’ solemn face next to Snape’s. “He was really fine one moment and then he started crying out in pain. The blood – he started bleeding a minute after the pain had – I mean, there weren’t any gashes initially,” Myungsoo stumbled over his words, unable to stop himself from thinking over and over _they think you did it_. “The pain came first, then the blood after that.”

“What was he doing when the pain started?”

Myungsoo’s eyes darted to Dongwoo and Woohyun, anything to stop having to meet Snape’s terrible gaze. There were rumours around school that Snape could perform Legilimency, which is why it was never any use trying to lie to him about missing homework or undone projects; Myungsoo wished then that Snape would just pluck the information out of his brain so that he wouldn’t have to say the words in front of everyone there. Their first kiss – that had been just for the two of them; if he focused hard enough, he could still feel Sungyeol’s mouth on his own. How could he tell them?

“Mr Kim,” Snape prompted, Myungsoo’s own surname sounding like a threat on Snape’s tongue.

“He-” Myungsoo’s throat closed up, and he tried to swallow through the humiliation and chills running down his back. “He was kissing me.”

Myungsoo focused his eyes on the hem of Snape’s robes, shamefully fighting back the urge to cry and look anyone else in the face.

Snape’s face flickered, but otherwise gave nothing away; McGonagall took in Myungsoo’s absolutely broken face and moved towards him, putting her hands gently on his shoulders.

“Was there anyone with you in the room, Mr Kim?”

“No,” Myungsoo whispered, still not meeting her eyes. “I checked.”

McGonagall beckoned Woohyun and Dongwoo over, nudging Myungsoo lightly backwards into their company. “Mr Lee is going to be fine. We’ve given him more blood and Professor Snape has managed to heal his wounds. He needs to stay here at least for tonight so Madam Pomfrey can watch him and so his body can recover from the shock it’s been through. Do you understand?”

They nodded, knowing that asking to stay with Sungyeol would be met with a strict refusal.

“You may go, then. You can come and visit him tomorrow.”

There was nothing left to do but to turn around and go, their footsteps echoing on the flagstones.

*

“Severus, what is it?” the Headmistress asked the moment the boys were out of earshot, eyes showing the anxiety she had refused to let the students see.

Snape paused before answering, gaze resting on the curtains that still hid Sungyeol for almost a full minute before turning to McGonagall.

“The boy was not lying,” he said, reviewing what he had seen in Myungsoo’s head when he had unobtrusively dipped his mind into Myungsoo’s memories – Sungyeol coming closer, comfort, excitement, overwhelming happiness, and then Sungyeol falling to the floor and frantic spellcasting, blood, terror, panic. “He truly doesn’t know what caused this.”

“You knew exactly what to do to heal the boy,” McGonagall said in grudging admiration, the healers finally pulling back the curtains to reveal Sungyeol in new pajamas, sleeping peacefully and not a trace of blood in sight. The only indication that anything was wrong with him was the bandage wrapped around his shoulder peeking out from under the collar of the nightshirt, white against his own pale skin.

 Snape didn’t answer her, his own thoughts racing. He had probed in the boy’s mind to find out how he’d known about the curse – he’d thought he could recognize his own spell when he saw it, the gashes on the boy’s body identical to that caused by Sectumsempra – but now he wasn’t so sure. He had to be the only one who knew about that curse – he’d invented it secretly, after all – but the boy’s injuries had not been inflicted with a wand or any invocation, unless someone had been concealed invisibly in the room and used it non-verbally. It was impossible to think that someone else had discovered the spell and modified it – but the countercurse to Sectumsempra had worked perfectly.

“Do you – do you think it means anything, that they were… kissing before it happened?” McGonagall said the word primly, trying not to laden the fact that two of her male students were romantically – or sexually, for all she knew – involved with any further judgement.

Snape looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Should I?”

“No student in this school is adept enough at long-distance hexes,” McGonagall ran through the possibilities. “A delayed-action curse?”

“I think we should be asking ourselves why anyone would want this boy dead,” Snape replied, cutting into her thoughts. “This is a killing curse, Minerva. He’s in your house, what do you think?”

“That’s impossible,” the Headmistress stood, going over to Sungyeol’s bedside to look down at him sleeping. “He doesn’t have any enemies as far as I know. Why would anybody want to kill him? It’s unthinkable. And how would any student have access to learning a spell like this?”

“Maybe it wasn’t a student,” Snape suggested.

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve told you over and over again that Lupin is not to be trusted-”

“Oh, Severus,” McGonagall stopped him curtly. “Enough.” Snape looked away, face impassive except for a small muscle working in his jaw.

“We should check the room they were in. That should have been the first thing I asked,” McGonagall fretted, berating herself while watching Snape carefully. “Merlin knows what’s lurking unnoticed in this castle. Poppy?”

Madam Pomfrey came out of her office at the Headmistress’ call, looking expectant. “Yes, Headmistress?”

“Did they tell you where they were when the boy sustained the injuries?”

“I believe one of them only mentioned it was a classroom,” Madam Pomfrey answered. “Why? Do you think you may know the cause?”

“No, but we need all the help we can get,” McGonagall muttered. “I wonder – could we use Filius’ new tracking charm backwards on the boy? See where he’s been instead of where he is?”

“Or you could just ask me,” Snape said dryly. “I _have_ been inside his… friend’s mind.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?” McGonagall swept past him to the doors. “Come on, then!”

*

The first thing they noticed when they opened the door to the room was the coppery scent of blood, the dark pool on the floor having long dried to near-black. A lone wand was lying half in it – given the curiosity of the students, it was amazing that no one had come in to poke around after the commotion the three bloodied boys running out of it with an unconscious Sungyeol over one of their shoulders must have caused.

McGonagall picked it up and cast Prior Incantato on it with her own wand, seeing ghostly mirrors of pain-relieving spells and Homenum Revelio spill out the end, followed by harmless everyday spells. Even without Snape’s foolproof Legilimency this proved it to be belonging to Myungsoo as well as further evidence to corroborate his story; he had indeed cast spells to stop Sungyeol hurting and tried to see if anyone else was concealed inside the room.

“He didn’t even take his wand with him,” she said softly, imagining the terror the poor boy must have felt. Wizards never forgot their wands.

Snape was walking up and down the room, casting extensive magic-detection charms that glowed pale red and then vanished – the glow lasted for only fractionally longer right above where Sungyeol had lain on the floor, but then extinguished itself just the same.

“No spell was cast here,” Snape declared. “Not today.”

“Then-” McGonagall looked at Snape for a long moment, and Snape nodded. “The boy was carrying the curse with him?”

“Poppy will have kept the boy’s clothes. I could see to them, I suppose, if anyone managed to hex the very fabric, or if he had been wearing any ornaments,” Snape said, turning to go. “I have to tell you that there is probably no point. Magic like this – there is always a trigger. Curses don’t manifest for no reason, as you very well know.”

“I’ll have another talk with Mr Kim,” McGonagall sighed deeply, following Snape out after he had cast Evanesco on Sungyeol’s dried blood, leaving the floor looking as innocuous as before. “Tomorrow. He’s gone through enough for today.”

*

Woohyun’s feet automatically turned in a daze towards the corridor leading to Gryffindor Tower before he realized Dongwoo and Myungsoo were pulling him in the opposite direction towards the Hufflepuff basement. He barely had time to register what the cosy Hufflepuff common room looked like before he found himself in the sixth-year boys’ dormitory, immensely grateful that Dongwoo and Myungsoo seemed to share his need for comfort and privacy without him having to ask for it. The few stragglers from the Hufflepuff Quidditch celebration turned curious heads to watch them as they passed, Myungsoo thanking the gods that Woohyun had had the sense to grab Dongwoo before he’d entered the basement to Banish the remaining blood from his clothes.

They huddled in Dongwoo’s bed together, ignoring for the time being that they were all supposed to be brave sixteen-year olds – Woohyun felt more half that age, afraid and insecure. They realized as a clock somewhere started chiming that it had only just gone six in the evening. How long was it since they’d gone in search of Sungyeol in case his reconciliation with Myungsoo wasn’t going as planned? Woohyun had been fully prepared to step in and beat Sungyeol around the head with a chair if necessary, but Dongwoo had protested, telling Woohyun that Sungyeol needed to work things out with Myungsoo alone but Woohyun wasn’t buying it, knowing Sungyeol’s pride. Dongwoo had gone along to stop Woohyun from doing anything stupid – which Woohyun had done anyway. When he’d found Myungsoo Myungsoo had looked like the sky had fallen down around his feet, even though Woohyun had disregarded the horror in Myungsoo’s eyes and blindly fixated on his best friend’s blood on Myungsoo’s hands.

What would have happened if they hadn’t gone to interfere?

He found it hard to imagine being so fully on Myungsoo’s side even a week earlier – resentful that Sungyeol had found someone so fascinating he’d rather spend more time with them than Woohyun; but now here Myungsoo was in the middle of him and Dongwoo, looking so fragile he looked like he could shatter at any moment. Woohyun was half-glad that he had only cast Incarcerous on Myungsoo and nothing worse, wondering if he could ever have forgiven himself if he had hurt Myungsoo on top of everything else Myungsoo had already been through.

Dongwoo gathered Myungsoo up in his arms, Woohyun wriggling closer as well, and they stayed that way until Woohyun could keep quiet no longer.

“I have never been so scared before in my life. I thought he was dead.”

Dongwoo nodded, staring at his bedsheets.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Myungsoo whispered after a few moments. “I keep – going over and over in my head what happened and it doesn’t make any fucking sense!”

His breath caught in his throat as the tears came finally, and he buried his face in Dongwoo’s arm in pained embarrassment, Dongwoo lifting a hand to stroke Myungsoo’s back to calm him down. Dongwoo’s own shock at seeing one of his closest friends covered in blood and prone – as horrible as that was he realized with a jolt that what Myungsoo had gone through had to be even worse. Dongwoo had been expecting – dreading – Woohyun to make an abysmal joke about Myungsoo and Sungyeol’s first kiss, because joking at the worst of times was how he dealt with difficult situations and Dongwoo’d been on tenterhooks waiting for Woohyun to open his big mouth. To Woohyun’s eternal credit, however, he hadn’t said anything. To have your first kiss ruined by something as unthinkable as this – Dongwoo didn’t even want to think about it. Myungsoo had been the first to hear Sungyeol crying out in pain, and to see the blood soaking through his clothes; nothing came close to that.

“I’ve never even kissed anyone before him,” Myungsoo said inconsequentially in a too-young voice, head resting on Dongwoo’s shoulder as his tears subsided.

“That was your first kiss? Ever?” Woohyun asked, Myungsoo’s words nagging at something at the back of his mind.

Myungsoo nodded, Dongwoo letting him use his sleeve to wipe away the remaining tears clinging to Myungsoo’s eyelashes. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Woohyun decided. It was too long a shot. “It was Sungyeol’s, too.”

*

Madam Pomfrey ran faster than she’d run in a long while, wisps of hair wildly escaping her healer’s cap a distressing counter to her usually immaculate appearance. The corridors were deserted as they should be, this time of night – mostly deserted, anyway – she didn’t stop to exchange pleasantries with the Fat Friar as he floated past, his spectral face looking after her in concern.

“Sed nulla nisi ardua virtus,” she recited impatiently at the stone gargoyle that guarded the entry to the Headmistress’ office, taking the steps two at a time when it accepted the password and afforded her entry.

“Headmistress!” She called, frantic note in her voice prompting her to take a deep breath to calm her nerves. “Headmistress, are you there? Headmistress!”

McGonagall poked her head out of a small door to the right of the main desk after a few moments, her fading hair in a long braid and wearing an old-fashioned nightgown crinkled from sleep. “Poppy? What on earth is going on?”

“It’s the boy,” Poppy said, trying to slow her breathing from her dash up to get McGonagall. “He’s bleeding again. All his wounds have reopened, Headmistress, I have no idea how. He looks no different from when they brought him in this afternoon. Nothing we do is working.”

McGonagall wordlessly grabbed robes lying slung over a nearby chair and lost no time following Madam Pomfrey out of the office, the lines on her face growing deeper.

*


	9. Chapter 9

You could drown in the circles under Myungsoo’s eyes. He stumbled through his classes, not knowing what else to do; he wasn’t allowed to stay with Sungyeol and so the only thing left was to mimic some form of normalcy.

The news was all over school by then – ‘The only thing that spreads faster than gossip,’ his mother used to tell him, ‘is the flu.’ – Sungyeol was in the infirmary dying of something terrible; Myungsoo, Dongwoo and Woohyun were somehow involved; none of the teachers knew what to do; Snape left his quarters every night to tend to Sungyeol; no one was allowed to see Sungyeol; it was dark magic, blood magic, the classroom was cursed, Snape was killing Sungyeol instead of helping him, Myungsoo had done it, Myungsoo was dangerous and not to be trusted, so on and so forth. Myungsoo was tired of people staring at him.

It had been three days since it had happened, and every night was the same story – Sungyeol’s wounds reopened around three to four in the morning and Snape would be there waiting to close his wounds, singing the same low spell over and over until the bleeding stopped and the flesh knitted. Then he would leave without a word to allow Madam Pomfrey to fill Sungyeol again with the blood he’d lost. McGonagall and the other professors occupied their free time weaving words of enchantment over and through Sungyeol – spells of protection and shielding, of resistance and blocking, of revelation and drawing-out. Through everything Sungyeol lay insensible to the world and the curse held – simple and yet fiendishly complicated.

“As far I can see it’s tied to his blood, inseparable. To remove it by force would be to kill the boy,” Flitwick murmured to McGonagall who had her head in her hands, her elbows resting on the edge of Sungyeol’s bed.

“A blood curse?” McGonagall asked, not raising her head. “How on earth would anyone in this school be capable of casting such a thing-”

Flitwick’s eyes darted involuntarily to the spot Snape had occupied earlier beside Sungyeol’s bed, but McGonagall still hadn’t looked up and so missed it. He held his tongue.

“I don’t know how long his body will be able to sustain this,” he said, casting an eye over Sungyeol’s white face. “The curse aims to kill him, clearly, and all we’re doing is prolonging-”

“Mr Kim, you should be in bed,” McGonagall interrupted abruptly, her voice taking on the tint of Headmistress she only used when speaking to students. Flitwick looked around in surprise to see Myungsoo standing hesitantly a few steps into the infirmary.

“I – I couldn’t sleep,” he answered, figuring that the truth was no worse than any excuse he could think up.

“I’ll tell Madam Pomfrey to make you up a sleeping draught,” she said, tone not indicating whether he should turn around and go back to his dorm or if he could approach. The sight of Sungyeol lying on the thin mattress as he had been for the past few days made his chest ache, and he tried to ignore the flare of embarrassment he felt at her knowledge of their relationship, of why he was there.

“You can stay for a few minutes,” McGonagall told him briskly, her matter-of-fact expression making him feel better somehow. “Once Madam Pomfrey is done with your potion you are to go back to your dorm, do you hear me?”

Myungsoo stood quietly by as the professors got up to leave, a fraction of his brain wondering how they were feeding Sungyeol – were they giving him food in potion form, or was it a nutrition spell? Was there such a thing? Did Sungyeol need food in this state? He supposed it was a good thing a part of him could still be objectively curious when the rest of him was numb.

He reached his hands out to help adjust Sungyeol’s head on the pillow but thought better of it at the last moment, choosing just to look.

Sungyeol’s skin was papery, translucent in the strong infirmary light that brought out his veins in high relief against the white of his skin. The wounds were covered once more by new bandages and there was an additional bandage wrapped around his elbow that hid the puncture wound where Madam Pomfrey had been giving him the Sanguis potion, filling him up again every day as if he were a leaky cup.

“I didn’t know I was your first kiss, too,” he told Sungyeol, for want of breaking the silence. “I must be some kind of jinxed for this to happen to the first person who kissed me, huh?”

Sungyeol lay there, his chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly.

“Your parents are coming tomorrow,” Myungsoo continued, his voice sounding extremely small in the large room. “Charms - charms class is fine. You owe Professor Flitwick your homework on Containment spells.”

Myungsoo took a breath. “Yesterday was the due date for the Potions projects. You and Woohyun hadn’t got anything to hand in so Professor Snape gave you both a ten-foot essay on potions to help indolence and tardiness,” Myungsoo tried to smile, the telltale burn of approaching tears beginning in his throat. “Woohyun was so mad. It made me feel better, though, that Snape was treating things as if you were just sick with the flu or something. Not that that made Woohyun any happier about it. They’re both – they’re both doing okay, Woohyun and Dongwoo. They’re very worried about you, obviously. Everyone’s worried about you. Oh, your DADA group – your girls,” Myungsoo gave a tiny laugh, rubbing away a tear slowly rolling down his right cheek. “They gave Woohyun some flowers to give you. I’m not sure why flowers though, not like you can see them. He’ll probably bring them here tomorrow morning.”

Myungsoo paused, taking another deep breath to ease the tightness in his chest. “I told Junghwan and Luna about us. Didn’t seem such a big deal anymore. And you were right – they didn’t care. They were kinda mad that I hadn’t told them from the start, but that was it. They’re pretty horrified about the whole thing – like it’s something out of a fairytale, only backwards. True love’s kiss is supposed to break curses, not cause them. Of course,” Myungsoo hurriedly continued. “Not that I’m saying I’m your one true love. Or that kissing me caused this. I’d kill myself if that were true,” he trailed off.

Madam Pomfrey coughed quietly behind him, and he turned around with a jolt. She handed him the small vial of sleeping draught wordlessly, raising a hand to stroke his hair. Myungsoo wasn’t very sure what to do, because this was very un-Madam Pomfrey-like behavior, but he thanked her haltingly for the potion anyway.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help overhearing – what was that last part you said?”

“What?” Myungsoo swallowed quickly, wondering how much of the nonsense he had been rambling to Sungyeol she had heard.

“The part about the fairytale?”

“Um, that it’s – it’s like a fairytale but backwards because first kisses are supposed to bring good things, not bad. My friend Luna said that.”

Madam Pomfrey made a little humming sound in reply, looking thoughtful. “First kiss, you say?”

*

“Poppy, we’ve tried that. We’ve tried every single spell of revelation that any of us knows, and _nothing_. Nothing! It refuses to reveal itself to us. I don’t know how the curse is managing to block us that way, but maybe the original caster had woven in strong words of concealment with it, I don’t know. Without knowing what the curse is there is nothing we can do to counter it.”

“Headmistress, have you tried testing the other boy?”

“What?”

McGonagall looked at Madam Pomfrey in puzzlement, wondering what Myungsoo had to do with this. “He’s innocent, I thought we’d gone over that.” Madam Pomfrey put down her tray of Sanguis potion instruments, the nightly treatment of Sungyeol becoming almost routine; Snape’s bass voice could be heard in the outer chamber, singing Sungyeol’s wounds closed for the fourth time.

“No, test him for the curse,” Madam Pomfrey explained earnestly, putting a hand on McGonagall’s arm. “It’s just something I overheard him say yesterday. It was their first kiss, were you aware of that? Doesn’t that make you wonder?”

“Poppy…” McGonagall began skeptically, but Madam Pomfrey cut her off.

“I know it seems silly. But that’s exactly what the boy said, that it was like something out of a fairytale, and we all know fairytales are true. You told me it’s a blood curse the boy is suffering from – what if one of them has been cursed through his bloodline – to be manifested at the first kiss? First love?”

“That’s absurd,” McGonagall answered, doubt lining her face. “Those kind of things are ancient – family curses don’t exist anymore. You are the last one I’d have picked to be such a romantic, Poppy.”

“I’m as lost as you are, Headmistress,” Madam Pomfrey answered, shaking her head. “But it’s worth a try, at least, testing Mr Kim. What if you’re getting no results with Mr Lee because it’s not him the curse is on?”

McGonagall finally sighed deeply, clearly at war with herself. “We have no other ideas, at any rate. We’ll try it.”

*

“Woohyun,” Dongwoo waved a hand in front of his face, jolting him out of his reverie. “You’re supposed to be writing Snape’s essay.”

“To hell with Snape’s essay,” Woohyun bit out, leaning back in his armchair.

It was unbelievable to Woohyun that the teachers – some of the greatest witches and wizards of their age – hadn’t been able to cure Sungyeol yet. There was a lot that they weren’t telling Dongwoo and himself, obviously – but the fact was that Sungyeol still lay unconscious in the infirmary day after day, no closer to getting better. And he wished fervently with no small measure of resentment that they would tell him whatever they knew – didn’t he deserve to know? He was the closest thing to family Sungyeol had at Hogwarts. Sungyeol’s parents had arrived that morning, solemn and worried, and he’d spent a few minutes with them before they’d gone to see Sungyeol. They’d always been welcoming and warm with him but this morning it was clear that they had no space for anything or anybody else on their minds other than their eldest son.

“Dongwoo,” Woohyun asked suddenly, causing Dongwoo’s quill to slip on his parchment. “How many siblings does Myungsoo have? Are they older or younger than him?”

“One younger brother, that’s all,” Dongwoo answered, taking in Woohyun’s slight frown. “Why?”

Woohyun’s frown deepened. “They’re both firstborn sons.”

“Yes,” Dongwoo agreed, waiting to see where Woohyun’s train of thought would lead them. Dongwoo didn’t need to ask who the other person making up the ‘they’ were; he was constantly in Dongwoo’s thoughts.

“And it had been both their first kisses.”

“Yes?”

“Dongwoo, would it be crazy if – argh, no,” Woohyun threw himself backwards into his chair, beginning to chew on a thumbnail.

“Spill it before you explode,” Dongwoo advised, erasing the mistake he’d made with his quill.

“It’s just – I can’t stop thinking of what we’re doing for our DADA project. This curse hits Sungyeol out of nowhere, right? Myungsoo didn’t cast it. No one else was in the room. Sungyeol hadn’t come into contact with any Dark object or whatever. I really doubt anyone in school would know how to cast a curse like that-”

“Really?” Dongwoo stopped him. “He-who-must-not-be-named learned a lot of Dark magic when he was still in Hogwarts. Any one of the students with rich families – many of the purebloods – could gain access to books of the dark arts that are banned here.”

“Be that as it may,” Woohyun said, refusing to be derailed. “Think about it. They’re both firstborn sons. It was their first kiss, and not just with each other, but with anyone. Sungyeol’s a pureblood – what about Myungsoo?”

“He’s Muggle-born,” Dongwoo told him, and watched Woohyun deflate slightly.

“He isn’t a pureblood too?”

“No,” Dongwoo shrugged. “His parents are Muggles.”

“His younger brother?”

“Not magical, as far as I know.”

“So it’s not Myungsoo,” Woohyun decided firmly. “That makes things clearer. It has to be Sungyeol’s family that’s cursed. He, the firstborn son, kissed someone for the first time, and the curse took effect, trying to break the bloodline.”

“That’s a really ridiculous curse,” Dongwoo mused. “What does kissing anyone for the first time have to do with breaking the bloodline?”

“Well-” Woohyun hesitated, trying to think like Sungjong, the only stumbling block being that he didn’t have Sungjong’s brain. “To cause the most pain as possible? Back when the curse was struck – who knows how old this is – people didn’t go around kissing other people unless they were married, right? When would their first kiss be?”

“During the wedding, I guess?”

“So you have your first kiss and pow! You’re dead. Everyone panics. Your new wife is traumatized forever. Your family never recovers and no one dares to marry or form a relationship with any of your siblings in case the same thing happens. Nobody has any children and so the family dies out. Sounds plausible, right?”

“How do you explain Sungyeol’s family still existing, then?”

“What?”

“If it happened like you said, how come Sungyeol’s family has survived till today? Whichever side was cursed, his father’s or his mother’s – the bloodline hasn’t been broken yet.”

Woohyun was stumped. “Maybe it only affected sons? So it didn’t touch the girls?”

“So you’re telling me that ever since Sungyeol’s family was cursed they haven’t had sons _at all_?”

“It could have been really recent-”

“Remember what Sungjong said, Woohyun. Anybody who put a curse on someone’s family will have to let the person being cursed know it – if it was recent they could have just been reported to the Wizengamot and the person would have to lift the curse on pain of death.”

“Argh!” Woohyun punched the arm of his chair hard, other hand raking painfully through his hair. “This is fucking pointless!”

Dongwoo lowered his eyes, feeling bad for arguing with Woohyun and not allowing him a false lifeline to hold on to, because coming up with a possible reason for Sungyeol’s curse was one step closer to finding a cure for it. Woohyun was desperate for it; each day brought increasingly restless and curt behavior, as if Woohyun was carrying something inside him that threatened to burst at any minute and he was becoming less and less able to contain it. Dongwoo pretended not to see Woohyun’s red-rimmed eyes in the morning when they went for breakfast together, whether from insomnia or crying, and poured his energy into helping Woohyun create the illusion that everything was fine. The teachers would find a cure and Sungyeol would be alright. It was only a matter of time.

Woohyun had got up from his chair and was now pacing back and forth, teeth again worrying at his thumbnail.

They had no answers, Dongwoo sadly thought, only what-ifs. And while Woohyun paced, his best friend wasted away.

*

Myungsoo was summoned to the infirmary after lunch, anxiety quickening his steps. The only thing he could think of why he was being called to the hospital was that something had happened to Sungyeol – the possibility of it being something positive not worth entertaining.

He let McGonagall lead him to a chair and sit him down once he’d arrived, Snape not taking his eyes off him the moment he entered the door. Madam Pomfrey stood near Sungyeol’s bed, with Flitwick nearby. They all watched Myungsoo expectantly as if he was about to start performing circus tricks.

“Not to worry, Mr Kim,” McGonagall addressed him finally, stepping back from Myungsoo. “We just need to test something, just to be sure-” she looked back at Madam Pomfrey, who gave her a quick nod. “We need to find out where the curse originated.”

Myungsoo’s mind was racing. “Where it originated?”

“I’d rather not say any more at this point,” McGonagall said, and Snape snorted, earning him a glare from Madam Pomfrey. Myungsoo looked between them, thoroughly confused. “Just – if what we want to try works, then we will know for sure what the curse on Mr Lee is. If not… we’ll think of something else.”

Myungsoo wanted to protest that he wouldn’t agree to anything until they explained themselves, and demand he be told whatever they had found out till then – but with the teenager’s native distrust of adults, he doubted they’d tell him anything anyway. He settled for knitting his brows and moving further back in his seat, wishing that Professor Sprout was there. Even if she might not be of any use to the proceedings – herbology was her forte, not charms and spells – just his Head of House’s presence was usually enough to comfort Myungsoo.

Seeming to sense some of the uncertainty Myungsoo was feeling, McGonagall began to explain what they were about to do.

“We’re going to cast the same spells over Mr Lee and then yourself, and see if we get any information out of that. Just simple ones – revelation, seeing, searching – and hopefully by the end of this we’ll know more about the curse we’re dealing with. Alright?”

Myungsoo nodded, wondering what else he could do.

McGonagall and Snape turned then to Sungyeol’s prone body, wands held at an angle. They began to speak in tandem, twin streams of sky blue snaking their way over Sungyeol from their wands, forming glowing leylines where his veins lay just beneath the skin. The lines split and feathered until they had formed a perfect network of fine threads of light pulsing slowly in time with Sungyeol’s heartbeat. Snape took a minute or two to check them, narrowing his eyes to see the finest of the lines, and when he was satisfied, he nodded. Flitwick then joined in – murmuring low into his cupped hands until Myungsoo could see a brilliant tiny ball of green spinning slowly in his small palm. Fascinated, Myungsoo watched as Flitwick released the ball gently onto Sungyeol’s right big toe.

It turned immediately to a blazing red, and Myungsoo’s head snapped up. Surely that meant something? However, the professors showed no sign of surprise or interest, and Myungsoo continued to watch the ball in confusion. The ball travelled up and down each blue pulsing pathway, sometimes helped along by a word or two from Flitwick when it seemed not to know which way to go. There was absolute silence in the room as they all followed the red orb with their eyes, watching it flow from one blue rivulet to another. By the time it had reached Sungyeol’s head, nearly an hour had passed without anything happening – it had completed its journey, and winked out into nothingness.

“Nothing, just as before,” Flitwick declared.

 _Just as before?_ Myungsoo thought, understanding now why none of them had seemed surprised at the ball changing colour when it had touched Sungyeol.

“Red means the presence of dark magic,” Snape informed him, cutting into Myungsoo’s thoughts and making him jump. It was the first time Snape had spoken to him directly since that first day, and Myungsoo hurriedly tried to think of something else on instinct. He now felt raw and exposed in front of Snape, as if he had no secrets he could possibly keep from the man. It didn’t help that Snape had the stare of a sphinx. “But, as you can see, there is no origin of it in Mr Lee’s blood. The curse is in him, but not from him.”

 _Dark magic_ , Myungsoo shuddered despite himself, quickly looking away. He hadn’t wanted to hear it confirmed.

“And now you, Mr Kim. If you would be so kind?”

Myungsoo realized that McGonagall was gesturing to the bed next to Sungyeol, and Myungsoo got up onto it, feeling terribly self-conscious beneath the glaring hospital lights. He lay down, fidgeting with his clothes to make sure he didn’t look as awkward as he felt. He had no idea what to do with his hands.

Madam Pomfrey handed McGonagall a bloody bandage, and she passed it to Flitwick. Myungsoo’s eyes widened – was that-?

“The spell needs to know what to look for in you,” Flitwick told him, noticing Myungsoo’s look of shock. “Mr Lee’s blood – and therefore the curse in it – is needed for direction.”  

Myungsoo swallowed and looked away as Flitwick began to smear the blood over his own hands, looking no less uncomfortable than Myungsoo felt. His stomach began to churn.

“I could take your place if you cannot handle a little blood, Filius,” Snape said, his bone-deep voice not bothering to hide his amusement.

“That will not be necessary,” Flitwick snapped, tossing the bandage aside. “We are all aware of your tastes in magic, Severus, but your eagerness to help in this case is unwarranted-”

“Enough!” McGonagall’s voice cut sharply through the quarreling, quarreling which felt like it had an undercurrent of real hate and a long history behind it; Myungsoo closed his eyes tight, wanting to be far away.

A silence followed that Myungsoo found was even louder than the two men’s raised voices. He opened his eyes again to find McGonagall staring the two of them down, finally dropping her gaze to move back towards Myungsoo.

“Will I-”

McGonagall paused, her wand already held over Myungsoo’s body. “Yes?”

“Will I feel anything?”

“No, Mr Kim, you shouldn’t feel a thing.” Myungsoo kept his gaze trained more towards McGonagall, sure that if he were to look at Snape he’d see only mockery there. Flitwick took up his position at Myungsoo’s feet, and the magic began.

The same blue light streamed from Snape’s and McGonagall’s wands, attaching themselves to the pattern of his veins and bloodways, forming little cities of blue over major arteries. Myungsoo tried his best to look down at his body without squirming too much, but had to lie flat again at a warning look from McGonagall. Flitwick prepared the little green blast of light, holding it carefully in his bloodstained hands as he waited for the vein-mapping to be completed. At a nod from McGonagall, he let it slip daintily off his fingers and onto Myungsoo’s right big toe, still murmuring directions at it.

None of them were prepared for what happened next – the ball not only turned crimson immediately, but the blue light reached out for it, pulling it along Myungsoo’s major veins like a red boat being towed upriver. It reached his heart in only a few seconds, settling there with an inexplicable deliberation to the shock of all who were watching.

“What-” Myungsoo jerked off the bed, Snape putting out a firm hand to keep him down. “What does it mean? What is it doing?”

McGonagall had a hand to her mouth before she realized what she was doing, and let it fall. “It would appear,” she began slowly, exchanging worried glances with Snape, Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey in turn before she carried on. “It would appear, Mr Kim, that it isn’t Mr Lee who is cursed. It is you.”

*


	10. Chapter 10

The lady was washing the dishes when the insistent tapping at the window started. She turned around, wiping her wet hands on her skirt as she went in search of what was doing the tapping in some trepidation – her little apartment was on the tenth floor. There shouldn’t be _anything_ tapping on the windows.

When she saw what was making the erratic tapping, she stopped short. She hadn’t seen this in five years, and fear leapt inside her instantly. Was it good or bad news?

She opened the small living room’s window to let the owl in, and it neatly dropped the letter from Hogwarts onto her sofa before making one round of the room and settling on the frame of the window it had entered by, waiting expectantly. Moonsoo was still at school, and her husband wouldn’t be home for hours – she wondered what she would do if the letter was about something that had happened to Myungsoo, if he had been hurt – she had no idea what went on in that magical school of his, and still didn’t understand most of what he told her about it when he was home.

Opening the envelope, she read through the contents quickly, going still as stone.

_Please inform us of the earliest time we can meet with you at your home to speak about this. Please understand the matter is of extreme urgency. You may write a reply and give it to the owl to bring back to us._

The lady looked up from the letter, suddenly looking very small and defeated.

“So,” she murmured to herself, heartbroken. “It’s happened after all.”

*

_Myungsoo reeled as if he’d been slapped._

_“You were right, Poppy,” McGonagall was saying, the sound of her voice seeming miles away in the background as a roaring started up in his ears. “The curse originated in Mr Kim. You were right.”_

_“No,” Myungsoo said, and as reality came flooding back he became aware that he’d been repeating the word ‘no’ over and over for the past minute. “There’s no way – I’m not cursed! It’s not me!”_

_He tried to wrench off Snape’s hand holding him down in the bed, but Snape only pushed back harder. “Calm down,” Snape ordered, fixing him with his dark eyes._

_“Get your hands off me!”_

_All at once, a peculiar heavy sensation travelled through his limbs and he felt his apprehension and fear ebb away in degrees; Snape’s eyes had not left his face, and the knowledge that Snape was probably using a nonverbal tranquilising spell on him only served to make him angrier, but that too faded fast. Myungsoo’s head dropped back onto the mattress, eyes threatening to close as the fight drained out of him._

_“No,” he swallowed weakly. “I didn’t hurt him.”_

_“Severus, that wasn’t necessary,” McGonagall admonished sharply, pushing Myungsoo’s hair back from his forehead gently. “Mr Kim, can you hear me?”_

_Myungsoo nodded slowly through the dense cloud of artificial contentment._

_“Mr Kim, you have to be extremely honest with me. Do you have any knowledge at all why you would have a blood curse on you?”_

_“No,” Myungsoo pleaded, cotton wool in his head and tears beginning to leak out the sides of his eyes. “I’m not cursed.”_

_“We could give him Veritaserum,” Flitwick suggested. Madam Pomfrey shot him down immediately, unable to keep quiet any longer._

_“Honestly, all of you! Can’t you see how upset the poor boy is?”_

_In the haze before the spell took him and gave him up to a dreamless sleep, Myungsoo saw the teachers gather together at the foot of his bed and begin to argue intensely, their voices melding into a low buzzing background noise that he wished would stop. He let his head fall to the right. Sungyeol was a blurred vision in white – white skin, white bandages, white pajamas. Myungsoo tried to reach for him, but his hand never made it._

_Myungsoo slept._

*

Strangely enough, the first thing Myungsoo thought about in alarm when he woke up was of all the classes he must have missed. He must have overslept because the sun streaming into the room was too bright to be seven in the morning when he was supposed to have gotten up; then he realized he was in the infirmary, sleeping in the bed next to –

Myungsoo froze.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” Madam Pomfrey smiled kindly at him, Myungsoo watching her approach as if in a dream through the pounding of his heart as the memories of yesterday came rushing back. Madam Pomfrey muttered something accusatory about how Snape hadn’t needed to use such a strong tranquilising spell that had knocked him out for nearly a whole day, but Myungsoo found himself feeling oddly thankful. What would he have done if they’d let him go back to his dorm yesterday? Better to sleep and be oblivious to the world than awake and helpless.

Myungsoo looked at her, having nothing to say.

“Poor child,” Madam Pomfrey sighed, pausing. “Would you like to go back to Hufflepuff basement?”

Myungsoo hadn’t even begun to confront the events of the day before – that he had somehow caused Sungyeol to be sliced open with an invisible knife and to have to lie unconscious day after day without any clear hope of recovery anyone could see; why, and how, and when, and _why_ , and who, and why Sungyeol, and why now. It was impossible to take in without wanting to burst with anger and fear and shame and guilt.

It really was true. He was the reason why Sungyeol had nearly died. _Would he have to die for the curse on Sungyeol to be broken?_ The thought struck him like a hammer.

“I – I don’t know,” Myungsoo managed to get out, wanting to both be as far away from Sungyeol as he could and not wanting to go out into the world of Normal waiting outside; his friends would want answers and he didn’t think he could talk to anyone right now. _Woohyun_ would want answers –

Myungsoo retched without warning, and Madam Pomfrey hurried away to find him a bucket. The curse was in Myungsoo’s very blood, the very thing that was keeping him alive, and unsuspecting Sungyeol had done nothing to deserve any of this – the memory of Sungyeol kissing him innocently rose unbidden in Myungsoo’s mind. All along, Myungsoo had been nothing but a walking weapon, and he was _always going to have hurt Sungyeol_. The thought of how persistent and upfront Sungyeol had been about his feelings, being so clear that he wanted Myungsoo – it made Myungsoo want to laugh or cry, he didn’t know which.

By the time Madam Pomfrey returned, Myungsoo was gone.

*

“How are they coming? Are they just going to appear out of thin air?”

The lady cast a quelling look at Moonsoo, whom she hadn’t been able to keep the news from once he had overheard her and his father talking in the kitchen – in a house as small as this eavesdropping wasn’t that hard. All she had allowed Moonsoo to know was that there were wizards and witches – words still so alien to her even though she had had years to accept that her eldest was a wizard as well – coming to the house to speak to his parents and that he was to go straight to his room once they had arrived. Truth be told, she had no idea how they were going to get here – Myungsoo had probably told her once how magical people travelled but every time he came home he talked nonstop about everything he had seen and learned at school so that things were bound to get lost in his excited landslide of information. Moonsoo’s eagerness to see Myungsoo’s teachers and possibly some magic didn’t help to offset any of the hopelessness she was feeling, however.

To Moonsoo’s disappointment, they rung the doorbell. Her husband ushered them in quietly to sit on the small sofa, and she offered them tea out of the urgings of good manners even if she didn’t really bother whether they liked it or if they noticed the cracks on the worn china – they accepted it nevertheless, the woman smiling kindly in deep contrast to the solemn man in complete black next to her who hadn’t smiled nor said a word since they’d arrived. They were wearing long robes which Moonsoo gaped at – a firm nudge from his mother sent him pouting back into the room he used to share with Myungsoo.

Myungsoo’s mother sat down on the one remaining chair while her husband stood behind her, and waited – the Hogwarts letter had been intentionally vague but she knew there was only one reason why they would be here.

“Madam, sir,” McGonagall began, clearing her throat as she held her tea in both hands, the welcome warmth of it seeping into her fingers. “Firstly, thank you for getting back to us so quickly. I appreciate your promptness as time is of the essence here.”

Myungsoo’s parents nodded.

“As I informed you in the letter, we are here about your son. A few days ago there was an incident in school involving Myungsoo which left another student severely injured. Myungsoo claims not to know how it happened, and we believe him – which is why we are here to find out if you know anything that could help us save this other student. In short,” McGonagall continued, knowing she was beating around the bush and annoying Snape while she tried to think of a way to break the news to Myungsoo’s parents. “In short, we have reason to believe that Myungsoo has a curse on him, and this curse manifested for the first time as he was having his first kiss with this other student. The other child is now in the hospital with multiple slash wounds, all inflicted magically by the curse. I hope I have been clear so far?”

“You already know,” Snape said abruptly to Myungsoo’s parents. McGonagall turned to throw him a furious look, believing he had reneged on their earlier agreement not to use Legilimency on the Kims unless it was absolutely necessary. “They’re not surprised,” Snape said by way of explanation, watching the two Muggles. “Anybody else would be shocked, asking questions, refusing to believe what we were telling them. They already know.”

Myungsoo’s mother sighed, her husband squeezing her shoulder without a word – their silence more meaningful than anything they could have said in answer to Snape’s observation.

“Yes, we know,” Myungsoo’s father said finally, voice old. “I suppose we were always hoping it wasn’t going to end up like this.”

“What exactly do you know?” McGonagall questioned immediately, leaning forward. “Please, this is very important.”

“We will tell you, but first, please, how’s the girl?” Myungsoo’s mother asked, shame written on her face. “I couldn’t live if she doesn’t survive.”

“The girl? What girl?”

“The girl Myungsoo kissed?” Mrs Kim looked confused.

“Oh,” McGonagall was speechless for a moment, and looked uselessly to Snape for assistance. “Oh dear. It’s – it’s not a girl.”

“Not a girl?” Myungsoo’s father repeated, taken aback. “Are you telling me Myungsoo’s first kiss was with a boy? As in – it was for a game, or joke, or what?”

“No, I don’t believe it was.” McGonagall felt out of her depth, remembering how miserable Myungsoo had looked when he’d had to tell everyone in the infirmary that Sungyeol had been kissing him when the curse had taken hold. This wasn’t the conversation she had come here to have. “I understand this must be shocking to you, but please understand, that is the least of our worries right now. A child is lying almost dead back in our school and we need to know how to save him. Please, tell us whatever you know about the curse that Myungsoo is carrying in him.”

Myungsoo’s mother looked up at her husband uncertainly, the both of them clearly shaken by this news.

“I had – I had no idea,” she murmured, lost. “A _boy_ …”

Snape’s short patience snapped. “What I want to know is why you never bothered to inform the school about this? He could have killed that other student if his friends hadn’t acted on time. As it is we cannot discover a way to cure the other boy of a curse that clearly wants him dead, so I would _appreciate_ it if you would tell us whatever it is you know. If you haven’t realized by now, this curse on your son looks set to ruin his entire life.”

The effect on Myungsoo’s parents was no different than a cutting lecture of Snape’s had on any Hogwarts student, an observation that would have been almost funny if the situation had been anything but the current one.

“Of – of course,” Mrs Kim said, looking stricken. “I’m so sorry. We just – it’s a surprise, you understand, he never gave any indication – yes.” She took a deep calming breath, and then another. “When Myungsoo came to us as a baby-”

“I beg your pardon?” McGonagall couldn’t stop herself from interrupting. “Came to you?” She sucked in a breath as the realization hit her and Myungsoo’s parents nodded. It was all starting to make sense. “He’s not your child.”

“No, he – we adopted him. We’d been trying to have a baby for years but couldn’t. I don’t know how she knew – Myungsoo’s real mother – I don’t know how she knew about us but one day she came to the house. At first we couldn’t believe it – she said she was a witch, that her son would likely be magical too – she showed us magic to convince us. She said she couldn’t look after her baby anymore, she was crying so hard. And then she told us about the curse.”

Myungsoo’s mother broke off then, pressing a hand to her mouth. Mr Kim bent down to rub her back, speaking soft words of comfort.

“We were so desperate for a child – I don’t think I really cared what her story was as long as I could have the baby, I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. She told us that she had a curse on her, that all her family had it. It caused their loved ones to suffer horribly – her own husband, she said, had paid the price for being with her. She wanted us to have Myungsoo so that he had a chance to be with a Muggle girl when he grew up – that was what she called us, ‘Muggles’ – and hopefully break the curse through his children. Dilute the bloodline, or something, I don’t know if that makes sense to you?” She paused, and McGonagall nodded at her to continue. “She was raving, poor woman. I think she was half out of her mind by then.

“So we took him. It all seemed like a dream, honestly, but the next day he was still there, in the bassinet she had brought him in, and the genuine adoption papers she had produced out of nowhere. And he grew up with us, and we loved him so much. He’s such a good boy.” She trailed off.

“Then the things started happening,” Mr Kim picked up when it became clear his wife wasn’t going to continue, his hand still on her shoulder as he cast worried looks at her. “She lost her job, I had a sickness which also meant I had to give up my previous career, we all had to move to this smaller apartment because money became so tight – my hospital bills nearly ruined us. At first we didn’t think much of it, just tried to get through it, you know? But then his real mother’s words were all we could think about. That she had a curse on her that hurt her loved ones – made them suffer – and Myungsoo would have it too. I beg you, don’t misunderstand me. We never told him anything, or blamed him for our misfortune, you have to believe that. But as things happened too frequently for them all just to be coincidences… we knew it was real.

I’m sorry,” Mr Kim said helplessly, fruitlessly. “You’re right, we should have told the school.”

“What’s going to happen to Myungsoo now?” Mrs Kim spoke up tremulously, one hand gripping the arm of her chair so tightly the knuckles went white. “It’s not his fault. If anything it’s ours. We never told him, he couldn’t have prevented it.”

“Myungsoo’s not going to be punished, if that’s what you’re asking,” McGonagall answered quickly, trying to reassure her. “As you said, he had no idea of the curse. But…” McGonagall stopped, trying to think. If the curse had been passed to Myungsoo through his mother that made this a hereditary bloodcurse, and curses of that nature were unbreakable through external magic. The only way a hereditary curse could be broken was – McGonagall turned to Snape to find him already looking at her. She knew he was thinking the very same thing.

“But?” Myungsoo’s mother asked anxiously, looking between Snape and McGonagall.

“Madam, what was the name of Myungsoo’s real mother? Did she tell you?” Snape turned back to the Kims, leaving McGonagall to her thoughts.

“Yes, yes she did. I’ll never forget their names. Her name was Jung Seohyun, and her husband’s name was Kang Sanghoon.”

“Kang Sanghoon?” Snape mused, “Minerva, do you recall-?”

“The Auror?” McGonagall answered without pause, memories coming back to her from sixteen years ago. It was hard to forget – it had caused such an uproar when it happened. Kang Sanghoon had killed several people during a Wizengamot trial for a criminal he himself had arrested, and reports that had emerged after the murders indicated that his behavior had been increasingly erratic over the past months – the stress of the job, threats on his life normal for an Auror taking their toll, so on and so forth – the papers were full of speculation.  He’d finally taken his own life in Azkaban, months later. She hadn’t known he’d had a wife, however.

“Do you mind-” Snape was asking the Kims. “Could I have a basin of water?”

“A basin?” Mr Kim repeated, not sure if he’d heard correctly.

“Yes. I want to see if his mother is still alive.”

McGonagall gave Snape a look out of the corner of her eye. Surely such low water divination was hardly Snape’s style? They could easily have done it when they were back at Hogwarts, too – she gave up. It was impossible to fathom what Snape was thinking.

Mr Kim came back from the kitchen with a small washbasin filled to the brim with water, and set it down carefully on the table in front of Snape. Snape shook back the sleeve of his right hand and began muttering, dividing the surface of the water into two with a finger so that a faint glowing line cut the washbasin into two. One half he designated Earth, and the other was the Afterlife. Snape named Jung Seohyun, mother of Kim Myungsoo, student of Hogwarts, and a tiny twinkling light appeared in the Afterlife. They all stared at it for a moment before Snape wiped the water clean, shaking his sleeve down over his arm once more; the Kims looked in awe at this display of magic, simple as it was. McGonagall narrowed her eyes slightly at the unnecessary flourishes Snape had added into the magic – a divination spell didn’t need to be verbal, nor did it usually involve so much twinkling and glowing light.

“We must be getting back,” Snape said as he stood, bowing slightly to the two Muggles who hurried to shake his hand and McGonagall’s in turn, the mother especially looking up at him with hope in her eyes. McGonagall looked at Snape then, wondering if that had been his purpose; to give Myungsoo’s parents something to trust in, even if it had been the equivalent of cheap Muggle parlour tricks. He’d awed them with something beyond their understanding, and so helped them make the connection between this and the curse, also something they didn’t understand; Snape had control over one so he could possibly have control over both, and he would put things to rights. Muggles were really very simple, while Severus Snape, McGonagall thought, was incredibly complex.

“Try not to worry about Myungsoo,” McGonagall said with a confidence she did not feel, holding Mr Kim’s hand in both of hers. “We will find a way to stop the curse.”

*

It wasn’t Luna, or Junghwan, or even Woohyun or Dongwoo who found Myungsoo in the end, even though all of them were looking for him. He knew the longer he stayed away the more suspicious and worried the others would be and he wouldn’t be able to get away without some kind of explanation but he hadn’t found a way to tell them that he was indeed the reason why Sungyeol was nearly dead, living some kind of half-life where his body stayed barely alive but unconscious; so in a simple logical equation, that meant he wasn’t going to go back just yet.

“Your concealment charm needs work,” the familiar voice drawled behind him, making him jolt upright from his position near the window. “Though I suppose moping in a corner is more important to you right now than making sure your spells are foolproof. Not very smart, I think, especially if a certain Gryffindor were to find out what you did to his best friend and came in search of you.”

Myungsoo turned around to see Snape leveling a steady stare at him, and he let the enchantment end half-defiantly. It rolled off his shoulders like water off a duck’s back, revealing him in stages from the head down.

“I didn’t do anything to him.” Myungsoo grit his teeth, fighting the urge to lash out against someone he knew he couldn’t win over even while the near-uncontainable raging against reality within him made him want to be reckless.

“Partly true,” Snape conceded, sardonic tone heavy. “The question is, what are you willing to do to make things better?”

Myungsoo’s breath caught in his throat the same moment everything else seemed to stop. “What do you mean?”

Snape walked closer, seeming to take his measure of Myungsoo while Myungsoo felt his hands go cold. “What. Are you. Willing. To do.”

Myungsoo swallowed, trying to look away from Snape’s eyes so dark you could drown in them. He thought of Sungyeol’s blood on his hands and the feel of Sungyeol’s mouth on his until the two memories were inseparable. He imagined he could taste blood on his tongue, his heartbeat speeding up. _What could he possibly do?_

“It seems,” Snape said, coming to stand beside him to look out the window nonchalantly as if they did this together every day. Myungsoo couldn’t take his eyes off him. “For Mr Lee to live, you have to die.”

*


	11. Chapter 11

“Sungjong.” Woohyun caught Sungjong by the elbow as the group broke up their DADA project meeting. Their presentations were more or less done; their information had been fact-checked [by Sungjong, of course] and the rest of them were supposed to be working on their delivery of the content but Woohyun had been sullen and restless the whole afternoon. Dongwoo had sent pleading glances the others’ way every time someone looked like they were about to tell him off.

Sunggyu and Howon waved goodbye as they left together, leaving the two of them with Dongwoo in the library as Madam Pince prowled. Sungjong slowed, fixing Woohyun with an inquisitive look.

“Oh, you _can_ speak.”

“Sungjong,” Woohyun repeated, note of urgency in his voice unmistakeable. “I need your help. Sungyeol’s been in the infirmary five days now and no one wants to tell us anything. Myungsoo’s been missing for two days – I’m going out of my mind.”

“What do you want me to do?” Sungjong asked, skeptical. “I don’t have any special bargaining power with the Professors, not when it comes to something like this.”

“No, I don’t mean that. I mean – just hear me out, alright? I can’t just sit by and do nothing. I need to know what’s happening with Sungyeol.”

Sungjong looked from Woohyun to Dongwoo. “I don’t see how I come in.”

“Just – hear me out.”

Dongwoo sighed as Woohyun pulled Sungjong into a chair. Woohyun had become increasingly manic, convinced of a thousand conspiracy theories to do with Sungyeol’s continued non-recovery and Myungsoo’s disappearance, all a little crazier than the next. He had tried to be understanding and set aside his own grief to try to balance Woohyun out, but Woohyun was past listening. Dongwoo wasn’t sure if he would be able to hold Woohyun back if he needed to.

“I know Sungyeol’s been cursed, but we don’t know with what. You’re the only one I trust to know what to do, Jong. If we could get into the infirmary could you find out? What hex is on him?”

“Woohyun,” Sungjong started, looking no less skeptical than when Woohyun had started talking. “If the teachers themselves don’t know what makes you think I could find out? I’m smart, yeah, but I’m not so arrogant as to believe that I’m smarter than the professors here.”

“Jongie, please,” Woohyun pleaded. “We have to at least try.”

Sungjong rolled his eyes, sending an exasperated look Dongwoo’s way. “And how do you propose we get into the infirmary long enough to cast all these spells on Sungyeol?”

“Leave that to me,” Woohyun promised eagerly. “Dongwoo will help.”

Dongwoo’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Thank you, Jong. Thank you thank you. Let’s meet on the infirmary floor at… four in the morning? I know Snape goes to the infirmary every night around three. Four should be safe enough.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Dongwoo demanded, getting annoyed. “Woohyun, you-”

“Madam Pomfrey told us Sungyeol’s wounds reopened during the night when we went to see him in the morning that day, remember? I guessed that’s why they’re still keeping him. So I just hid myself and waited a few nights outside the infirmary to see what went on.”

Dongwoo gaped at Woohyun, look of disbelief identical to the one Sungjong was wearing. “Woohyun, you need to stop this. The professors-”

“The professors,” Woohyun spun to face Dongwoo. “Have done nothing. He’s my _best friend_ , Dongwoo. I have to try.”

Dongwoo closed his eyes, tired. “Just promise me you’re not going to do anything crazy.”

*

 _Tit for tat_ , Myungsoo thought, the notion floating dismembered and detached in his mind suddenly gapingly devoid of all other thoughts. It made sense, didn’t it? He hurt Sungyeol, and Sungyeol had nearly died. For Sungyeol to live properly again he had to right the wrong he had done. Tit for tat.

His gaze had dropped slowly to Snape’s shoulder, glassy stare fixating on the fabric of Snape’s robes as that one idea revolved in his head.

_I have to die._

_I have to_ die.

_For someone I dated a month?_

_It doesn’t matter how long we dated. He didn’t deserve this._

_Neither do I, I didn’t do it on purpose. I didn’t even know._

_My parents –_

“Of course,” Snape continued, as if Myungsoo had been waiting for him to finish his sentence all along. “You wouldn’t have to die for long. That isn’t, actually, the tricky part.”

“What?” Myungsoo could only ask stupidly, relief and confusion and shame in huge waves battling in him till he couldn’t think straight. The matter was simple, wasn’t it? He had to help Sungyeol to make up for what he had done – whether on purpose or not – so why did he feel like he wanted to turn tail and run? If _dying_ wasn’t the tricky part what on fucking Merlin’s earth could it be? Myungsoo clenched his fists, hating Snape for being so deliberately vague and focusing on that anger in his chest. It was the easiest thing to feel at the moment.

“But perhaps not,” Snape said softly. “Perhaps I’m asking the wrong person.”

“ _Perhaps_ you should stop yanking my chain and just tell me what it is I have to do,” Myungsoo snapped, lashing out. The corners of Snape’s mouth quirked as if he found Myungsoo’s impotent anger amusing.

“Made up your mind, have you?” Snape asked silkily, still not looking at him.

Myungsoo tried to breathe normally. No. “Yes.”

Snape turned to look at Myungsoo silently.

“How do I know I can trust you?” Myungsoo blurted out. “You haven’t told me anything.”

Snape smiled, but there was no humour in it.

*

They stole Sungyeol’s body from the infirmary that night after Snape had sung his wounds closed again for the sixth time. Myungsoo had waited some distance down the corridor from the infirmary and didn’t know how Snape did it – probably Confunded everyone; or a memory charm? – even though he desperately wanted to know; something, anything to make him feel less like a balloon buffeted by the wind, head and heart just as empty and helpless.

“If you just explained to them-“ Myungsoo tried, feeling a special kind of horror at the sight of Snape carrying Sungyeol’s limp body down the corridors to his own private quarters.

“If you think the Headmistress regularly approves the use of Unforgivable Curses and death magic in this school you must be a bigger fool than I took you for,” Snape sneered.

The breath hitched in Myungsoo’s chest. “Unforgivable curses?”

“How else am I going to kill you, boy?”

Myungsoo’s feet stopped of their own accord and he watched Snape’s robes billow out behind him as he carried on walking, Sungyeol’s hair outlined briefly like a halo in the light from a torch on the wall as they passed.

 _This was insanity!_ Myungsoo had let guilt and shame pressure him into agreeing to Snape’s plan, whatever it was – he didn’t even know what was going to happen! He didn’t trust Snape; nobody he knew trusted Snape, with his deliberate intimidation and lack of sympathy together with the rumours about him and the Dark Arts; and here he was, letting Snape carry out god-knows-what on him and Sungyeol. Why did Snape even want to help?

Myungsoo hurried after Snape. He was barely keeping his head above water, and the pool was getting deeper by the second.

Myungsoo went curiously deaf for a moment as Snape murmured the password to his private apartment, and stumbled into the spartan living quarters with a ball of rage compressed tight in his chest. It was too much – all this magic happening to him and because of him without his own knowledge or consent –

“Don’t ever do that again,” he demanded, trembling with an overwhelming mix of anger and fear. “Stop casting spells on me without warning like I’m some stupid child who doesn’t know anything or – or as if I’m a thing to be used-”

Snape merely looked at him as he laid Sungyeol out on a large table to one side, leaving the other half empty. _For me,_ Myungsoo realized. _The space is for me_.

“You _don’t_ know anything, Mr Kim,” Snape told him as he settled Sungyeol’s head down with surprising gentleness. “The headmistress and I visited your parents today.”

“My – and?” Myungsoo’s heart had started pounding the moment Snape had brought Sungyeol out of the infirmary wrapped in a blanket in Snape’s arms and looking like he weighed nothing, but now against all logic it sped up even more.

Snape unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and began rolling them up to the elbow. “You _are_ cursed, Mr Kim. You are cursed with something that makes the ones you love suffer. How you came to be cursed – that is a matter for you to talk to your parents about personally. Suffice it to say that a curse like this can only be broken once you are no longer alive. Therefore, logic follows that once you are dead – even if for a few seconds – the curse should become void and you will be released from it. The other professors are bound by wizarding law; or, should I say, less willing to break it. And so they are spending their time uselessly trying to devise ways to trick the curse in your blood to break itself – but blood curses are beautifully simple. They hang on until the victim is dead. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And Sungyeol?” Myungsoo asked, watching Snape calmly go about readying the table and Sungyeol as if he spoke about death magic every day of his life.

“Ah, yes, lover boy,” Snape said carelessly, Myungsoo hating him for it. “Once the curse in you is broken, it should release him as well. However, he has been in a magically-induced coma for five days now – but neither I nor any of the other professors nor Madam Pomfrey put him in one to help his body cope with the stress. Every time I heal his wounds he is theoretically fine, and yet? He doesn’t wake up. I have to deduce that it is the curse that keeps him unconscious, although,” Snape broke off, thoughtful. “The curse-creator may have missed something there. How much more awful for everyone involved if the person affected recovered fully for a few hours every day, awake and normal, before having to suffer all over again, every single time? Too bad.”

Myungsoo stared, sickened. “Too – too bad?”

Snape ignored him. “Come here.”

Dragging a metal basin of water towards him, he unceremoniously divided the surface of the water into two halves, exactly the same spell he had showed to Myungsoo’s parents. He named Lee Sungyeol, Gryffindor, beloved of Kim Myungsoo, Hufflepuff – Myungsoo began blushing furiously, pointlessly, sure that Snape had only added that in to humiliate him – but nothing happened.

“See? That half is Earth and the other is the Afterlife. Your boy is not in either of them. So I will kill you, and then bring you back instantly – but not all the way. You need to find him and bring him back here with you. Whatever happens on the way – whatever you do, you have to trust me and follow my voice. Remember, you have to make it back _together_. If you don’t, Mr Lee will be lost. This is not a spell that can be done twice.”

Snape picked up a long, fine-bladed knife with an ivory handle from the foot of the table and without preamble made a long slit across one forearm so that his blood bloomed in quick rivers down into a glass bowl. Myungsoo jumped, unconsciously reaching one hand out to stop Snape, but Snape only sent him a sneering look.

“What’s that for?” Myungsoo half-whispered, both repulsed by and unable to look away from Snape’s blood flowing into the bowl.

“Do you think bringing you back from the dead will be without price?”

“Who – who do you have to pay it to?”

Snape gave a strange mocking smile. “The first interesting question you’ve asked me, but, unfortunately, it is better that you do not know.”

“Where is Sungyeol? How will I know how to find him?”

Snape didn’t answer for a few moments while he bound up his arm with a length of clean cloth, the bowl now nearly full. Flexing his fingers and clenching his fist, he grimaced. Myungsoo wondered why he didn’t just use the same spell he used every night on Sungyeol to close the wound, but then decided he didn’t want to know.

“Your turn,” Snape said, coming over to Myungsoo with the knife and a separate, smaller bowl. He took Myungsoo’s right arm, Myungsoo powerless to resist in shock and morbid fascination; he made the same quick slit in Myungsoo’s forearm but smaller, and collected not even half as much blood as he had taken from himself.

“This is to be able to find you to bring you back,” Snape murmured, closing the cut with a flick of his wand. “As for finding Mr Lee – the most I can tell you is that he is in Limbo. Not dead, not alive, but that is no comfort. Limbo is tricky, make no mistake. Those that guard it will not want you to steal from them a potential soul.”

Snape briskly helped Myungsoo onto the table to lie down next to Sungyeol. “Think about him. Think hard, and you will find him. And once you have, you hold hands and don’t let go. Those in Limbo have no power over the living but that doesn’t mean they won’t try to confuse you, separate you. Lost living souls in Limbo are as good to them as dead ones, and Mr Lee has one foot in the grave already.”

“Why are you doing this?” Myungsoo asked, needing to know but not knowing at all if he would like the answer.

Snape looked down at Myungsoo, scared and pale on the table. His fingers were making small nervous movements that Myungsoo probably wasn’t even aware of.

“Like I said, boy,” Snape replied evenly. “If you think the Headmistress regularly approves the use of Unforgiveable curses and death magic in this school you are a fool.”

“So… for the sake of professional development?” Myungsoo’s voice cracked on the last word.

“If you like,” Snape smirked, and readied his wand. The killing curse was leaving his lips even before Myungsoo realized that ‘if you like’ wasn’t a proper answer in any sense of the word.

Myungsoo died.

*

“Madam Pomfrey! Where is he?” Woohyun asked, shock making his voice more strident than it needed to be. He was paused in the act of helping a severely sick Dongwoo limp his way into the infirmary, Dongwoo’s supposed stomachache forgotten at the sight of Sungyeol’s empty bed. The sheets on it were crisp and perfect as if they hadn’t housed a dying student for five days. Woohyun felt Dongwoo’s body tense, confused at the discovery and unsure whether to continue the charade or not.

“Where’s who?” Madam Pomfrey asked once she’d come quickly out of her private quarters, head cocked curiously on one side. “Are you alright?” Lucky she was used to students waking her up at all hours, or these two would have been kept waiting kicking up a ruckus and disturbing her other patients while she roused herself.

“Sungyeol! Lee Sungyeol? He’s been here for days – the curse?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. Is this friend of yours ill?”

Woohyun stared in disbelief at Sungyeol’s bed as Madam Pomfrey took a look at Dongwoo.

“I’m fine, really, Madam Pomfrey, I think the pain’s gone now-”

Woohyun grabbed Dongwoo by the arm and tugged him out of the infirmary, Dongwoo sending apologetic looks Madam Pomfrey’s way.

“Well, I never! At this time of night, too!” She grumbled, wondering if she should notify the hall monitors for students out of bed.

“He’s gone, Jong,” Woohyun reported breathlessly the moment they had reached the nook in the wall where Sungjong was waiting a distance down the corridor. “His bed is empty and Madam Pomfrey is acting like she’s never heard of him before in her life.”

“What do you mean?” Sungjong asked, frowning.

“I mean that we went in there and Sungyeol is _gone_. And Madam Pomfrey was all ‘Sungyeol who?’”

Sungjong was still a moment, thoughts racing in his head as Woohyun shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to the other. He hated these silent thinkers.

“Let’s try and find if we can locate him,” Sungjong said finally. If he had theories as to what was going on in the infirmary, he didn’t let on. “Do you have something of his I asked you to bring me?”

Woohyun scrabbled in his robe’s pockets and produced Sungyeol’s wand. Sungjong’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, very well done,” he murmured, flourishing his wand. “This will do perfectly. _Accio_ map.”

Woohyun and Dongwoo looked at Sungjong, nonplussed. “What map?”

“You’ll see,” Sungjong answered, and a minute later a large sheet of parchment came flying through the corridors to them like a giant manta ray swimming through air.

He got to his knees and spread it out on the ground of the corridor, intricate drawings done in black ink sprawling across the slightly yellow parchment.

“It’s amazing,” Dongwoo said in awe. “How did you get a map of Hogwarts? It’s impossible. Some places don’t even exist every single week and the staircases change from hour to hour, at the very least.”

“I got the stones of the castle to talk to me,” Sungjong explained simply. “Obviously, there’s places missing on this map – I couldn’t get into any of the professors’ private chambers, for example. Though I did convince the stones of the other three houses to give me their blueprints,” he smiled proudly.

“How on earth did you do that?” Woohyun asked, intrigued despite himself.

“Persistence?” Sungjong answered, shrugging. “It was for an extra credit Charms assignment, I couldn’t slack off.”

“Gods, I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of _you_ ,” Dongwoo muttered.

As they looked, parts of the castle on the map changed and moved or disappeared entirely – “I’m extremely proud of that, if I may say so myself. I tied the real-time stones with vector and spatial charms to the map so that when they changed in real life the map changes too,” Sungjong told them. Dongwoo and Woohyun nodded seriously, not understanding a single thing Sungjong had said – and Sungjong laid Sungyeol’s wand onto the map, right in the middle.

“Where is the owner of this wand?” Sungjong asked, and they all immediately bent close over the map. Dongwoo whispered ‘Lumos’ to help them see; the light of the torches in the wall brackets above them not strong enough. They scanned the map minutely but to no avail, Sungjong visibly disturbed that his charm had not worked.

“There should be a little star,” Sungjong said, distractedly, and decided to try again. “Where is Lee Sungyeol?”

Again, nothing.

“He’s not on the grounds?” Woohyun asked, panicked note in his voice matched by the worry in the other two’s eyes.

“You’re not asking the right question.”

The malice in the ghostly voice was so recognisable that they hardly needed time to think. The three of them immediately turned to look up at the Bloody Baron hanging above them, wands in defensive positions at the ready.

“What do you want, Baron?” Woohyun asked, taking care to keep his wand trained on the Slytherin ghost. The Bloody Baron was no-one’s friend.

“I ask you, now is this nice? A fellow only wants to help and all he gets is disrespect,” the Baron spat, the corridor becoming steadily colder by degrees.

“We mean no disrespect,” Dongwoo offered, trying to appease the Baron and hopefully send him away. “The Slytherin dungeons are without protection without you around. You’re needed there, not here.”

“Wait,” Sungjong said quickly, putting out a hand to bring down Woohyun’s wand. “What did you mean, I’m asking the wrong question?”

The Baron laughed, the harsh sound of cracking bones and metal scraping metal. “Your friend is no longer of the living. You will not find his soul here.”

“What?” Woohyun breathed.

“Better for you to ask where his body lies,” the Baron called out, fading away maddeningly. The corridor was near freezing, their breath starting to come in little puffs of steam.

“Where –“ Sungjong had whipped back to the map and tried once more, his hands starting to shake with the cold. “Where is the body of the owner of this wand?”

At once a tiny star appeared on the map, in the middle of a space devoid of Sungjong’s neat drawings and they all stared at it in varying degrees of horror.

“His – his body?” Dongwoo asked no one in particular, feeling his chest close up.

“It’s empty. What does that mean?” Woohyun demanded.

“Shh,” Sungjong pored over the map. “This area is Slytherin territory. Those are the dungeons to the right, and –“

Sungjong stopped and looked up, staring into the distance.

“What? What is it, damn it?” Woohyun grabbed Sungjong by the arm, forcing Sungjong to look at him.

“That must be Snape’s quarters. Sungyeol’s body is in Snape’s quarters.”

*


	12. Chapter 12

Snape finished the spell and watched as the blood he had given as sacrifice in the ceremonial glass bowl bubbled itself into nothingness. He realized he was gritting his teeth and tried to relax – the entities he was dealing with weren’t known for their trustworthiness. Or, if he was being truly honest with himself, _anything_ positive. The boy was still lying dead on the table next to his – what should he call the other boy? His boyfriend? Lover? It seemed ludicrous, for a sixteen year-old. They were still only children, really.

The seconds ticked by – had he not given them enough blood? He mopped at his brow with his sleeve. He hadn’t expected the whole process to take this long. If the boy’s tissues had started to degenerate –

“Whenever you’re ready,” Snape muttered into the silent room, impatience setting in heightened by frustration. “Any time you’re ready…”

Myungsoo’s chest heaved as his heart finally began to beat once more. The sound of breath being drawn into Myungsoo’s body was music to Snape’s ears, though if asked he wouldn’t have admitted it to anybody. He wouldn’t have thought that bringing someone back from the dead only halfway to Limbo would be so much more difficult than all the way back to Life, but he supposed there was a profound lesson in there somewhere. All he hoped now was that he had been forceful enough and his binding spells would hold – _they_ weren’t above petty trickery. He’ll just have to see later if it was truly Myungsoo – and only Myungsoo – that had come back in his body. He couldn’t help, however, the hard, bright glow of pride burning fiercely within him. How many wizards could say they’d done this successfully?

He picked up Myungsoo’s bowl of blood and dipped the tip of his wand in it carefully, speaking the words of finding and holding on.

*

Myungsoo opened his eyes slowly. The place he was lying in was dark, and his eyes had to take some time to adjust before he could see anything at all. He pushed himself slowly to a sitting position feeling rather on the wrong side of right. It was as if his blood was flowing too quickly through his veins, or his lungs not keeping up with the gulps of air he breathed in; his skin didn’t feel like it fit him very well. Was this what coming back to life felt like?

He became aware of the whispering at the edges of his field of vision – he could make out shadows, and rock, and some places that shone more brightly in the half-light had to be puddles of water – yes, there was a dripping that echoed around the place and bounced off the walls so that he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Where was the light from? It seemed no darker at one end than another, like normal caves. Myungsoo blinked. He was in a cave. Was this really what Limbo was, or was this only for him?

There was a faint thundering in his head that had been getting steadily louder and louder, and only then did Myungsoo realize that it was a voice; not only was it a voice, but it was a very familiar one.

_Boy!_

“I know your voice,” Myungsoo said, the strangeness of his body beginning to fade. “But I’m not sure I know you.”

_Oh, for Merlin’s sake. It’s Professor Snape. Surely dying hasn’t flummoxed you that much?_

“Well,” Myungsoo answered, feeling oddly calm and uncaring. “The next time you die, tell me how you get on.”

_Impertinent brat! I have half a mind to leave you there on your own, and good riddance to the both of you. Now stop all your nonsense and listen. Put a hand in your pocket and bring out what you find there._

Myungsoo did as he was told, the weight of the smooth stone in his palm feeling weird. It felt much larger than it was.

_Have you found it?_

“No need to be so impatient,” Myungsoo murmured, looking at the stone.

_Don’t test me, boy._

“Yes, I have it.”

_Good. Now put it down on the ground._

Myungsoo let it roll off his palm and onto the damp rock floor, where it immediately started to glow red, casting a small umbrella of warm light around itself.

_Is it glowing?_

“Yes, it is,” Myungsoo answered, smiling to look at it. He knew he was here for something, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what. He could think about it later. Right now it was just nice, watching the glowing red stone.

_Right. That’s your touchstone out of here – think of it as your portkey. You do know what a portkey is, don’t you?_

“I may be Muggleborn but I’m not stupid,” Myungsoo grumbled, tempted to pout.

_Yes, well, I won’t hold it against you. You have to make it back here to come home. Leave the touchstone here next to where you are now – you came in this way and you have to go back the same way. Don’t worry, nothing will happen to it. Hopefully, anyway. Now-_

“What do you mean ‘hopefully’?” Myungsoo asked, playfully suspicious. “Tsk, tsk.”

_For gods’ sake! Do you think I make weekend trips to Limbo? Do you think I know every single thing that happens in the Afterlife? Am I Merlin reincarnated?_

“Well, there’s no need to get angry,” Myungsoo scolded, trying not to giggle. He had a nagging feeling that this wasn’t how he spoke to this Professor Snape, but right then he had such a great pervading sense of wellbeing that he was determined to enjoy himself. There was silence from the voice in his head for a while, as if the person was doing deep breathing exercises.

_Mr Kim, how are you feeling?_

“Very good, actually, thank you,” Myungsoo answered cheerfully.

_I want you to get up and start walking away from where you’re sitting. Do it now. Get up. If you’re already up, just start walking. Once you start feeling a change, tell me. Now, go._

Myungsoo shrugged good-naturedly and got to his feet, choosing a random direction and walking off carefully in case he tread on loose rock. Step by step he felt the fluffy contentedness drain from his body not into unhappiness but more into sobriety – it felt like his head had been stuffed full of cotton wool and cobwebs and bit by bit someone was doing spring cleaning.

He shook his head and blinked, turning back to look at the glowing touchstone where he’d left it – and alongside the small red light were two more red pinpricks trained on him unwaveringly.

“Professor Snape?” Myungsoo asked uncertainly.

_Yes? What are you feeling now?_

“Normal. And there’s eyes watching me, Professor,” Myungsoo swallowed.

_Remember, Mr Kim. I never said Limbo was safe. There are things there that will try to trick you into staying, into getting lost, and once you’ve found Mr Lee – if you find Mr Lee – into separating the two of you forever. Describe to me what you felt just now._

Myungsoo couldn’t tear his eyes away from the ones watching him from the shadows. “I felt like – like I was happy. I couldn’t really remember why I was here or who you were. I didn’t care about anything.”

_Sounds like a lesser Siren. Take note of what you felt so you can avoid it if it happens again. The things down there have no power over you, not really – but they will do their best. They are masters of trickery so keep watch. Lose your head and you are, literally, lost. Do you understand me?_

“So they can’t hurt me?” Myungsoo belatedly began to look about him for darker shadows or more eyes reflecting in the darkness.

_In a manner of speaking. They have no interest in harming you, only trapping you. Now get a move on for Merlin’s sake! Start thinking, really hard, about your Eurydice-_

“My Eury-who?”

_Don’t you wretched students read? Don’t you know the legend of Eurydice and Orpheus?_

“No,” Myungsoo frowned. “What the hells does this have to do with anything?”

_Nothing, since you would make a poor Orpheus and you wouldn’t know what to do about a pillar of salt. Anyway. Start thinking about Mr Lee. Choose a really strong memory, and you will be led to him. Call out to me if you need to but don’t take your own sweet time._

Myungsoo breathed deeply. A strong memory of Sungyeol – right. Myungsoo chose the most obvious one of Sungyeol kissing him, but immediately abandoned it; his mind kept slipping into the bloody aftermath and he didn’t want to be led to anything at the end of that memory.

Images of Sungyeol sped through his mind; emotions and feelings and his unique scent, the feel of his soft hair under Myungsoo’s fingers, the touch of his skin – Myungsoo squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on the latest image. It was at the end of their first date when Sungyeol had abruptly taken his hand, fumbling in the darkness on the way back from Hogsmeade to get all their fingers aligned properly. Myungsoo had had a shock when Sungyeol grabbed his hand and had thanked his lucky stars that it was dark so that Sungyeol couldn’t see how awfully he had blushed – it was crazy, but he could have sworn that he had felt chills and fire at the same time run up and down his arm. Myungsoo took a moment in the present to roll his eyes at himself – chills and fire indeed. It really was a good thing it had been so dark, because he had also grinned like an idiot all the way back to the gates of Hogwarts.

There. That memory. Sungyeol’s hand holding his firmly, their arms bumping as they walked back quietly together, and how Myungsoo had nearly burst out in a squee-dance when Sungyeol hesitantly stroked his index finger with his thumb.

Myungsoo opened his eyes, holding his breath, and there before him lay a twinkling line starting from his feet and leading off into the darkness.

“There’s a line,” Myungsoo told Snape. “From my feet. It just appeared.”

 _Follow it then!_ came the impatient reply.

Myungsoo set his shoulders, and set off.

*

“Come on, we have to tell someone,” Woohyun got to his feet, helping Sungjong roll up the map between them. Dongwoo stayed kneeling, even when the other two started to walk off.

“Dongwoo? What are you doing?” Dongwoo looked up to see Woohyun frowning at him, Sungjong tactfully turning away.

“He’s dead, Woohyun. Or did you miss that part?” Dongwoo asked hollowly. “You heard Sungjong and the Baron. Only his body’s lying in Snape’s apartment. He’s gone.”

“No, there has to be some mistake. We’ll get into Snape’s quarters somehow, and-,” Woohyun shook his head and made to pull Dongwoo to his feet, but Dongwoo shook off his hand.

“Will you just stop?” Dongwoo cried, getting shakily up. “He’s died. That’s why he’s not in the infirmary anymore. They’re probably trying to find out the cause of death somewhere private so they took him-”

Woohyun strode over and grabbed Dongwoo by the front of his shirt, shaking him to emphasise his words. “No. _No_. Sungyeol is not dead.”

Dongwoo stared into Woohyun’s hard eyes, noticing how heavy Woohyun’s breathing was coming. “He is not dead, Dongwoo. We can still save him.”

“Will you listen to yourself?” Dongwoo asked thickly, choking up. “You don’t want to face it but it doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“I thought you were his friend,” Woohyun said, releasing Dongwoo with an ungentle push, voice just as hard as his eyes. “I’m going to get McGonagall. You can go back to bed if you want.”

Woohyun stalked off, leaving Sungjong looking helplessly back at Dongwoo who was standing with the heels of his palms pressed firmly into the sockets of his eyes.

“We can’t leave him on his own, Dongwoo,” Sungjong said resolutely. “You know we can’t.”

Dongwoo took a steadying breath, letting his hands fall to reveal bloodshot eyes. Sungjong took him by the hand and they hurried after Woohyun.

*

Myungsoo followed the path laid by the twinkling thread, climbing carefully over boulders and slippery rock deeper and deeper into the cave. It disappeared as he walked, winking out underneath his feet. Myungsoo supposed that was a very good thing – he didn’t want anything else following him to Sungyeol even though it begged the question of how he was going to find his way back later. The whispering was still there, all around him; he tried very hard to ignore it and concentrate on not twisting an ankle on the loose shale or missing a step to plant himself face-first into a nest of sharp rock. He didn’t want to think about what was in the darkness.

He was starting to sweat – there was a curious absence of temperature here but the journey wasn’t easy to begin with and the low light made it even harder. He slipped then, the slide backwards accompanied by the sickening feeling of the ground losing traction underneath one’s feet and he made the mistake of grabbing onto the first thing that he could lay hands on to steady himself. He hissed instantly, cradling his left hand close to his body – the sharp rock had finally gotten him. Holding his hand up to see the damage better, he made out a small but deep cut seeping blood. The whispering around him swelled in density as he examined the wound; quickly pressing it to his side to hopefully stem the bleeding, Myungsoo hurried on, trying his best to keep to the middle of the cave and as far from the walls as he could. Blood clearly excited the things in the shadows, and Myungsoo wasn’t sticking around for _that_.

It was almost ten minutes later that the thread supposedly leading him to Sungyeol unexpectedly, and quite suddenly, stopped. Myungsoo stumbled to a halt, looking around him in confusion. He didn’t know how far he’d come through the twists and turns, and he tried desperately to see if he could remember how to get back if he had to – above all, he couldn’t see Sungyeol anywhere.

“Sungyeol?” he tried, calling out. “Sungyeol, it’s me, Myungsoo. I’ve come to take you back.”

There was nothing but the insistent whispering and the sound of his own slight panting in the gloom of the cave, and the ever-present dripping of water. “Sungyeol, are you here?”

Feeling helpless, Myungsoo couldn’t help the doubt that assailed him that Snape’s plan hadn’t worked but that way only madness lay. If Snape’s plan hadn’t worked, then what else had gone wrong? It didn’t bear thinking about.

“Professor,” Myungsoo said urgently. “Professor, the line’s stopped but Sungyeol’s not here.”

_Be careful._

“Thanks a lot,” Myungsoo muttered, walking carefully forward a few more steps. “Sungyeol?”

“Myungsoo?”

Myungsoo whipped around, almost losing his balance in shock to see Sungyeol emerge out from behind a large rock uncertainly, wariness written in the way he moved and looked. Myungsoo stared, frozen to the spot. Sungyeol was wearing the robes from that first day – the ones covered in blood – and his face was deathly pale. Myungsoo’s gaze raked over Sungyeol, drinking in the expressiveness of his face that had been so still the past few days and losing himself in the sight of Sungyeol’s open eyes staring straight back at him.

“Is it really you?” Sungyeol asked tentatively, voice small, and in an instant it was like a dam broke inside of Myungsoo.

“Sungyeol!” Myungsoo scrambled over to him and grabbed him, refusing to care about getting blood all over himself as long as it meant he’d finally found Sungyeol. Overwhelming relief coursed through him in wave after wave of electricity making him weak, helping to slowly chip away at the guilt he’d been burdened with for what seemed now like years.

“Sungyeol,” Myungsoo repeated, as if saying his name over and over would confirm that this wasn’t a dream, that the solid body he was holding in his arms was indeed the same one that had been lying unconscious in the infirmary for nearly a week. Sungyeol’s arms came up to hold him too, slowly tightening around Myungsoo such that Myungsoo let out a sob into Sungyeol’s shoulder, trying to get his breathing under control. He fisted Sungyeol’s school robes in his hands, his face buried in Sungyeol’s neck – he didn’t want to let go.

“I’m so sorry, Sungyeol, I never meant to,” Myungsoo had to say it, pressed against the warmth of Sungyeol.

“Never meant to what?” Sungyeol murmured, pressing kisses onto Myungsoo’s temple. “Kill me?”

Myungsoo’s breath hitched in his chest and he pulled back slightly. “Kill you? – Sungyeol, you’re not – you’re not dead. I’m going to bring you back.”

“But you can’t,” Sungyeol told him, stroking his hair. “I can never go back. You did this to me, and now I’m stuck here.”

Myungsoo frowned through brimming eyes, trying to pull away by pushing on Sungyeol’s chest with his hands so that he could explain. Sungyeol’s fingers running through his hair were getting a bit too rough.

“You’re not stuck here, Snape is helping me. We’re going to bring you back,” Myungsoo insisted. “Sungyeol, let go-”

“But look what you did,” Sungyeol said, and Myungsoo only had time to open his mouth in protest before fresh blood ran over his fingers from the wounds in Sungyeol’s chest. Myungsoo’s eyes widened in mute horror, watching the blood stain his hands anew.

Sungyeol kissed him then, his arms a vice around Myungsoo so that Myungsoo couldn’t escape no matter how hard he struggled. Sungyeol’s lips were cold against his in a kiss that had nothing of love or tenderness in it – Myungsoo wrenched his face away so that Sungyeol’s now-cold breath chilled his cheek. He could feel Sungyeol laughing lowly at him, his arms around Myungsoo finally loosening. Myungsoo threw himself away from Sungyeol – no. This wasn’t Sungyeol.

“Sungyeol is gone,” the thing whispered. “You’re never going to find him.”

Myungsoo’s legs failed him then, and he crumpled to the ground in a heap still unable to look away from the thing that had Sungyeol’s face.

The whispering ebbed back louder than before – Myungsoo hadn’t noticed it had stopped, and slowly as reality shifted back around him he realized that he was looking at the bare cave wall. Whatever it was had gone, and he was alone. He let his head fall into his hands and in the darkness, Myungsoo wept.

*

“Finite incantatem,” McGonagall cast imperiously over Madam Pomfrey, and Madam Pomfrey blinked, looking rather put-out.

“Can I help you with something, Headmistress?”

“Where is the boy?” McGonagall pointed to Sungyeol’s empty bed where Dongwoo, Woohyun and Sungjong were standing. Madam Pomfrey turned to follow her finger and gasped, a hand flying to her chest in shock. “Oh my – Minerva, I swear, I had no idea – he hasn’t-”

McGonagall caught her by the shoulders. “Poppy, listen to me. Who was the last person you remember seeing?”

“Severus, I suppose, but he was only here for a sleeping draught,” Madam Pomfrey answered, casting worried looks over to Sungyeol’s empty bed. Woohyun caught Sungjong’s arm urgently at the mention of Snape. “Oh Merlin, you don’t think-?”

“Yes, I do think,” McGonagall answered grimly. “Get Filius, will you? Meet me outside Snape’s private quarters.”

*

_Get up._

Myungsoo lifted his head a little, wiping away his tears on instinct even though there was no one nearby to see him.

_I’ve let you have six minutes exactly to get over it. I told you it wouldn’t be easy._

“Six minutes, huh?” Myungsoo replied, throat uncooperative. He coughed quietly to clear it, blinking away the remaining tears and waiting for his breathing go back to normal. “How generous of you.”

_By all means, stay there. Cry some more. Take all the time you want._

“You didn’t tell me they could do that.”

_I’m guessing from what I heard that they appeared to you in Mr Lee’s form. It was always possible, I suppose._

“Thanks for warning me, you know, for telling me before it made his wounds open again and his blood run out over my hands once more that what I was seeing wasn’t real. That really helped.”

_I think you’re forgetting that I can only hear you, not see what you’re seeing. I thought you’d found the real Mr Lee, too. Seeing as you have not, once again, will you stop feeling sorry for yourself and get going?_

“Sorry for – sorry for myself?” Myungsoo shouted into the shadows. His anger was impotent, however, and it deflated as soon as it surged through him. Snape was right.

He got up feeling utterly defeated. There was no twinkling light to lead him now, so he trudged on blindly into the cave as before not even knowing what he was doing. The cave seemed endless – probably _was_ endless – what were the reaches of Limbo? He’d read that the souls of dead wizards and witches, and Muggles too, he supposed, came to Limbo to be sorted before passing finally into the Afterlife, but the cave was utterly deserted apart from the whispering in the shadows. Myungsoo preferred the solitude if the inhabitants of Limbo were anything like the one he had just encountered.

“It really is you,” a soft voice said, and Myungsoo reeled. It couldn’t be happening again, not so soon?

A woman stepped out of the shadows to his right and Myungsoo backed away quickly, giving her a wide berth. She stopped, giving him a strange crooked smile. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. The guardians here are quite… eager to accept new inmates.”

“What do you mean, inmates?” Myungsoo asked nervously, watching her for any sudden moves. He wished fervently he had his wand to hold in defence, for as much good as that would have done. She was dressed like him, in robes, only hers looked like an outdated fashion similar to those worn almost twenty years ago. Her smile turned sad and despite himself there was something in her face Myungsoo couldn’t stop looking at.

“Some of us never leave here to go on to a better place.”

Myungsoo contemplated turning and running, insofar as running was possible in a place like this; it was insanity to stay here with what was probably yet another trap the things here had set for him. And yet he didn’t sense any danger from her – though not like he had sensed danger earlier with the thing that looked like Sungyeol. His instincts couldn’t be trusted.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” she told him, keeping her distance. “I just wanted to have a look at you. To see how you’d grown up.”

“Why?” Myungsoo snapped, heart pounding. He should go, and go fast.

“I heard them whispering about you, and I just had to come,” she smiled again, searching his face. “You’re so handsome, my poor boy.”

Myungsoo stared in disbelief. “Who are you?”

“You’ll figure it out,” she said, and her smile this time was true. “I know where he is, Myungsoo. I can take you to him. But I have to warn you, he might take some convincing.”

“No, I don’t trust you.” Myungsoo backed away further, and stepped right into a shadow. At the woman’s gasp he looked down, fascinated in his fear; a solid shade of opaque darker light encased his foot.

“Step out of it, now!” the woman grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her, the shadow not giving up his foot without a fight. It released him reluctantly, hanging on for as long as it could until he jerked his leg free.

“Get lost!” the woman ordered it, and the shadow slinked back into itself, billowing up and backwards into further darker shadow. It looked angry, insofar as a patch of solid light could look angry.

Myungsoo looked down at her then, her worried face furrowed into a slight frown as she bent to inspect his leg. Her hand was still on his arm, and Myungsoo was confused to find the weight of it reassuring.

_What is it, Mr Kim?_

“I think it’s okay,” he answered slowly, watching her, and prayed that he was right. The woman thought he was speaking to her and straightened, giving him the same true smile. What about it was so familiar?

“Myungsoo. Not the name I gave you at first, of course, but it’s a good name. Will you come with me?”

Myungsoo nodded, giving her his hand. Her face broke out into a beaming smile as she pressed and held it tight with both hands, and then turned to go back the way he had come. “We have to go back a little. He’s not on the main path. Don’t worry, nothing will come near if you’re with me.”

Myungsoo and his mother walked back into the darkness.

*

McGonagall, Flitwick and Madam Pomfrey stood outside Snape’s quarters with the three boys, looking at the bare rock of the dungeon wall in consternation.

“I could try to talk to the stone for you,” Sungjong offered. “It probably won’t help, like the last time, but it’s worth a try.”

“No,” McGonagall scowled. “I highly doubt Slytherin dungeon stone is going to give up the password to Snape’s apartment. Filius, we’ll have to use the Alohomora Amendment with a little persuasion from me as Headmistress of Hogwarts.”

“Would be better if it wasn’t nearly five in the morning,” Flitwick muttered to himself, coming over to join McGonagall in front of the wall. “And if you were a Slytherin.”

“You’re right,” McGonagall hesitated. “Do you think a student-?”

“More students?” Madam Pomfrey interrupted sarcastically. “That’s going to be a lot of memory charms to be performed later, I’m sure.”

“Nobody’s doing a memory charm on me!” Woohyun hotly protested.

“Will you be quiet, Mr Nam!” McGonagall hissed. “Just go and get me someone – one of your Slytherin friends you can trust. If I perform the magic through him there’s a better chance the stone will cooperate.”

“I’ll go,” Sungjong offered. “But I don’t have the Slytherin dorm password.”

“It’s ‘Machiavelli’,” McGonagall told him, going back to surveying the smooth dungeon wall.

“Why am I not surprised?” Flitwick said under his breath.

*

Myungsoo found the path back with the woman much easier, surprisingly – the ground was more stable and there was hardly any climbing to be done at all. She held his hand tightly as if afraid to lose him, sometimes looking back up at him just to look. They finally came to a small fork in the path, a smaller tunnel shooting off the main one leading downwards, so dark Myungsoo could hardly see further than a metre into it.

“This is where I leave you,” she said, reluctance in her voice. “He’s down that way. Don’t be surprised if he fights you. He’s had a bad time.”

Myungsoo squeezed her hand before letting go of it. He couldn’t really be sure of anything, here, but at least with her he didn’t feel afraid. “Where are you going?”

She let out a short laugh. “Everywhere, I suppose. Eternity is long and Limbo is longer. It’s payment for my sins, I’ve heard.”

“You can’t have committed many,” Myungsoo said, wanting her to smile again so he could marvel at how he felt as if he saw that smile every day, but she only looked at him, face somber, and straightened his robes for a moment or two before answering. “You’d be wrong, there. But meeting you has helped me bear it here. It will help for a long time to come.”

Myungsoo nodded though not really understanding. He turned around once to look at her as she saw him off down the tunnel, and there it was – that smile. He smiled back, feeling peculiarly uplifted as if he carried something small and bright within him.

He followed the tunnel as it sloped downwards, the dark swallowing him up until he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face. He had to put both arms out to steady himself against the tunnel walls, moving his feet carefully and taking effort to ensure he didn’t rush. If Sungyeol was really down here as the woman had said Myungsoo didn’t want to accidentally walk into him and give either of them a heart attack.

The tunnel began to slope upwards once more, the darkness lifting somewhat after a while. He could now see a lot better and it finally opened into a small circular cul-de-sac at the top of the ascent.

And there was Sungyeol.

Sungyeol was sitting crouched against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest. He was dressed as the previous impostor was in the bloody robes of that fateful day, and what Myungsoo could see of his face and hands were dirty. His forehead was pressed into his arms as he hugged his knees, the frailness of the picture he made making Myungsoo’s heart ache. This couldn’t be another trick.

“Sungyeol?”

The effect was electric. Sungyeol jumped to his feet, stumbling a little, and he quickly put as much distance between himself and Myungsoo as he could. “Stay away from me,” he warned, putting out both hands as if to fend Myungsoo off.

“Sungyeol, it’s me, it’s really me,” Myungsoo took a step forward, only to see Sungyeol’s face crumble.

“It’s not you,” he moaned, “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

“A lady – a lady led me to you, and I’m here to bring you back,” Myungsoo told him, trying to keep his voice calm as his heart broke at how hysterical Sungyeol looked.

Sungyeol just shook his head, feeling his way against the wall to keep moving away from Myungsoo. “You’re not real.”

“Snape is helping me. I’m cursed, Sungyeol, that’s true. When you kissed me the curse attacked you. But Snape is helping me break it, and helping me bring you back. You have to come with me.”

“Shut up!” Sungyeol screamed, his hands shaking. “Get away from me!”

Myungsoo stopped, at a complete loss. All he wanted to do was run to Sungyeol and hold him until he stopped shaking but that would be the worst thing to do right now – he could only imagine what Sungyeol had had to go through here the past five days. Did Sungyeol even know it had only been five days?

“Sungyeol,” Myungsoo tried desperately. “Remember – remember when Woohyun got jealous of me? And I got mad at you for wanting me to tell my friends about us even though I wasn’t sure they would approve – I did tell them, by the way, and they’re fine with it. Stupid of me, wasn’t it? And – and how we went to Hogsmeade for our first date and I tried to flirt with you by eating that toffee right out of your hand like an idiot. I probably just made a huge fool out of myself, didn’t I. And… the times I felt so awkward around you because I wanted so badly to touch you and then you finally told me it was okay and then I couldn’t stop touching you. And I was so embarrassed when you held my hand for the first time. I was blushing so hard but I was so happy because it was you. And the first time I saw you fly I wondered to myself why you weren’t a seeker because you fly so beautifully – you embrace the wind, you don’t fight it, and even if you’re not graceful you’re powerful. I’m fast, of course, but I could never fly like you-”

“You were the most wonderful flier I’d ever seen,” Sungyeol whispered softly as if he was speaking to himself even as his eyes bored holes in Myungsoo. Myungsoo noted his use of past tense, heart twisting further. “I think that’s why I fell in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?” Myungsoo swallowed weakly. “Well. Well done me, attacking you with a curse and landing you in Limbo. What a catch I am.” Myungsoo deliberated a moment and then took one cautious step towards Sungyeol, and another until he was standing tentatively in front of Sungyeol.

“It really is me,” Myungsoo pleaded. “I’ve come to take you home.”

Sungyeol hesitated still, eyes darting over Myungsoo in order to be sure.

“Come on, Sungyeol,” Myungsoo joked helplessly, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of the thought that struck him. Things could hardly get worse, after all. “You still owe Snape your ten-foot essay for not doing his Potions project.”

Sungyeol’s eyes widened, and then suddenly Myungsoo was holding an armful of Sungyeol collapsed against him, holding on fervently as if to a lifeline. The weight of Sungyeol in his arms shaking as he sobbed overcome with emotion was the best thing Myungsoo’d felt in recent memory – he couldn’t help letting out a short ecstatic laugh into Sungyeol’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around Sungyeol even tighter. “We’re going home,” he told Sungyeol over and over, feeling Sungyeol finally begin to get a grip on himself and the shakes turn into trembling and then into sure and steady. Sungyeol took a deep breath and pulled away, rubbing his face to get rid of the tears.

 _I take it you’ve found him?_ Snape’s voice chimed in, heavily sardonic.

“Oh yes,” Myungsoo grinned, and Sungyeol smiled uncertainly back.

“What?”

“Oh, I’m talking to Snape in my head,” Myungsoo told him, then immediately considered how that sounded. “I mean, Snape’s voice is in my head. He’s guiding me – um. Just trust me.”

“Why is Snape helping?” Sungyeol asked as Myungsoo led him out of the dead-end and back into the tunnel.

_Are you holding hands? Hold hands!_

“Yes, Professor.” Myungsoo tightened his grasp on Sungyeol’s hand. “We’re holding hands. Oh, sorry – he’s just telling me to hold your hand. It’s important for some reason-”

_It’s not just important for some reason, it’s a psychic act that translates into reality here. Holding on to something or someone alive makes a barrier against everything dead._

“-And well as far as I could tell he’s doing this for some kind of strange hobby. He says the Headmistress would never let him do it otherwise.”

Sungyeol looked at him, eyebrows raised in the half-light.

_I wouldn’t exactly call the Dark Arts a hobby, Mr Kim._

“Sorry, Professor. How are we going to get back?”

A twinkling line of light appeared at their feet, identical to the one that had led Myungsoo to the fake Sungyeol.

“Professor…” Myungsoo began, highly skeptical.

_This one is mine, I tracked you. Follow it quickly back to the touchstone and don’t let go of each other. Hurry now. The time you’ve spent there is more than enough to draw unwanted attention to yourselves._

“Too late for that,” Myungsoo muttered.

The two of them stumbled on, Myungsoo helping Sungyeol over the more difficult rocks and feeling more and more like he was walking on air the more ground they covered. His heart still pounded with adrenaline, however; until they were awake in Snape’s study with Sungyeol next to him he couldn’t relax. Sungyeol tightened his grip on Myungsoo’s hand, his name running like a guiding litany in Myungsoo’s head.

*

“What’s this? I asked for one student only!”

McGonagall pinned sleep-rumpled Howon and Sunggyu with a steely glare, the two of them wilting slightly underneath it. Sungjong tried to explain.

“I was only going to get Howon but Sunggyu woke up and insisted on coming too.”

“I find it hard to believe a student of your calibre wasn’t able to dissuade him,” McGonagall snapped, nevertheless taking both Sunggyu and Howon by the hand and leading them to the wall that hid the entrance to Snape’s private apartment; two Slytherins, after all, were probably better than one. She made them both stand in a semi-circle with her and Flitwick in the middle, hands linked and the two Snakes’ free hands placed firmly on the stone wall. The spell began – the Alohomora Amendment was devised to specifically open magically-shut doors and would have worked well enough on any other door not made of near-sentient Hogwarts stone. As it is, the stone had had centuries in order to build its loyalties and it needn’t be said that Slytherin rock didn’t take too kindly to other houses. Snape was its only master for now; Headmistress of Hogwarts be damned.

“Wait – why are we trying to break into Professor Snape’s apartment?” Sunggyu asked, drawing back his hand from the wall slightly. Howon also couldn’t hide his guilty look, eyes darting between the wall that hid their housemaster and the Headmistress.

“You will do as you’re told or I will find a Slytherin who isn’t ignorant of the benefits that come from being able to lend assistance to the Headmistress of your school,” McGonagall told them in no uncertain terms. _Let it never be said she didn’t understand the psychology of the different houses_ , she thought triumphantly as she saw the two boys exchange a look and place their hands back firmly on the wall.

*

Inside the apartment and as yet oblivious to what was going on outside, Snape massaged his temples that were beginning to ache from the intense concentration needed to keep the tracking spell going between Myungsoo and the touchstone. Snape was exhausted by that point – dark magic wasn’t like your run-of-the-mill bland charms and spells. It took great force of will and focus and not a little emotional stability; he struggled to keep his mind calm and free, pouring his energy into keeping the path between the boy and his key home open and strong. The two proxies were nothing more than a wooden block to represent the boy and an actual key to one of his trunks, but the form didn’t matter. Something more personal would have worked better, of course, but Snape was a better wizard than that.

There was something not quite right, like the infinitesimal shifting of air molecules.

Snape looked up, trying to compartmentalize his focus on Myungsoo so that he could seek out the cause of the change; it was magic, no doubt about that, but magic coming from where?

His apartment shuddered abruptly, Snape throwing out his hands to grab on to the two unconscious boys to prevent them from slipping off the table at the wrenching of the floor – the very stone underneath his feet was under pressure and trying to resist. Snape lashed out a few words of revelation and the outline of his door was highlighted in clear relief. Narrowing his eyes, Snape set to work.

*

“What-”

They stopped in dismay as the lightline at their feet disappeared suddenly. Myungsoo had the most horrible feeling of déjà vu, instantly looking around for some new devilry intent on terrorizing them – the whispering again crescendoed, breaking in waves around them as the shadows somehow grew darker.

“Professor? Professor!”

The voice in his head was silent, and Sungyeol stepped closer to Myungsoo, his fingers digging into Myungsoo’s arm in an emotion he didn’t have to name for Myungsoo to understand. It was the first time that Myungsoo had truly been alone in here, his connection to the land of the living cut off so fully – he could feel it in the strange emptiness he felt within him, like a sound you only notice once it has stopped.

Myungsoo swallowed and pulled Sungyeol along, deciding that blind movement was better than standing around defenceless.

“We could be going the wrong way!” Sungyeol protested as Myungsoo tugged him down another passageway. “What happened to the line?”

“I don’t know,” Myungsoo answered evenly, trying to appear calmer than he felt. “Whatever it is we have to keep moving.”

An icy chill was gathering at their backs, and as long as they could ignore it, they tried their best; but it was the special kind of cold every magical child was taught to fear that got into your bones and your thoughts until you couldn’t think or hope any longer – Sungyeol stumbled as Myungsoo let out a whimper. He tried to get angry – it wasn’t real, there couldn’t be Dementors down here, it was a trick as usual – but the cold sliced through him and froze the heat of anything he tried to feel.

Myungsoo felt and heard Sungyeol look back over his shoulder and cry out at whatever he saw was chasing them. Sungyeol put another hand on Myungsoo’s back to help push him along faster, but Myungsoo didn’t feel like running anymore. There wasn’t any point. They didn’t have their wands, they couldn’t perform the Patronus charm without them –

It was Myungsoo who stumbled this time, going down hard and bringing Sungyeol along with him in a tangle of hard knocks against jagged rock. Sungyeol mindlessly tried to pull him up, to scramble to his feet before the Dementors caught them, but Myungsoo’s legs had ceased to comply. _There just wasn’t any point_.

There was a break in the tunnel before them, leading into two different paths – Sungyeol somehow heaved Myungsoo to his feet with a superhuman effort, his breath coming harshly in Myungsoo’s ear, and pulled him towards one at random. A Dementor swooped in close, passing them and blocking off their escape so that they were now surrounded.

Myungsoo and Sungyeol stared in numbed panic at the Dementors advancing on them, all ability to reason that nothing they were seeing was real lost along with any warmth in the tunnel. Sungyeol felt Myungsoo’s body begin to tremble with the cold as they tried to back away from the leering and swooping Dementors, but any movement to the right was cut off the instant Sungyeol tried to pull Myungsoo along with him that way. They were being herded slowly further and further towards the left passageway, the dreadful thought that the Dementors were moving them in a purposeful direction registering faintly at the back of Myungsoo’s mind.

A Dementor broke away from the pack and hovered in closer and closer until they could see the rotting flesh clinging to its bones and the gaping maw that opened above them –

Sungyeol broke and ran in a blind panic, dragging Myungsoo along with him.

*

His door groaned till Snape felt like the sound of the tortured stone was scratching along his very soul. It was valiantly resisting the magic trying to open it, but Snape couldn’t trust it to hold up for very long alone under the attack. It had to be the Headmistress – nobody else could put up such an assault on his own spells and the dungeon’s own defences. That meant that the boy had been discovered missing from the infirmary already, and everyone was predictably expecting the worst of him – as usual. Lessen their suspicion of him by being nicer to everyone? Snape thought not. He wondered, however, how they had discovered that the boy – or boys – were with him; was it just usual blame-it-all-on-Snape, or did they _know?_

He fortified the stone with a few more enchantments, adding his own version of Protego Horribilis into the magic. It wouldn’t hold forever, not if the Headmistress was determined – and she did seem very determined – but it was good enough for now. Snape hurried back to the table, picking up the wooden block and key from the floor where they’d fallen. His best and only defence now against accusation was to bring these two back safely, so all the more reason for him to concentrate.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing everything else out of his mind.

*

Sungyeol yanked Myungsoo forward by his robes, not letting up for a single moment even as Myungsoo shouted at him to stop. His legs were on automatic now, no matter how tired he was becoming. He wasn’t going to stay and let Dementors take his soul.

“Sungyeol! _Stop!_ ”

Myungsoo dug his heels in and wrested his robes backwards, making Sungyeol lose his balance and his grip on Myungsoo’s hand. There was a split second as they both steadied themselves without touching, and then threw themselves together as the realization hit; Myungsoo seized on to Sungyeol’s hands frantically, expecting any moment something else to happen as a result of disobeying Snape’s direct orders. Sungyeol tried to catch his breath and come back to himself as they stood together in the dark, Myungsoo letting his head fall onto Sungyeol’s shoulder as his heart slammed in his chest. The Dementors weren’t real. The Dementors weren’t real.

The tunnel wasn’t cold any longer, but that was poor comfort – the Dementor-things had deliberately pushed them down this passageway, and neither of them wanted to contemplate why.

“We should try to make our way back,” Myungsoo pressed his nose into Sungyeol’s clammy skin to try to sift out Sungyeol’s own comforting scent underneath the sweat and dirt to calm his own skittering pulse. Sungyeol looked around carefully, his chin brushing Myungsoo’s forehead.

“They could be waiting for us,” Sungyeol disagreed. “Myungsoo, without Snape’s path we’re lost. There’s no way we’re going to be able to get back on our own.”

Myungsoo entwined their fingers together, stealing contentment out of the darkness for a moment to just not think and enjoy the touch of Sungyeol’s skin on his. What was it Snape had told him? _This wasn’t a spell that could be done twice._ Snape was still silent – did that mean they were lost forever down here? His thoughts turned hopelessly to the woman who had helped him so kindly, and wished hard with all his heart she was there to guide him once more.

_Where on earth have you two gone?_

Sungyeol was the first to notice the path winking into life once more, leading backwards the way they came, and he jiggled Myungsoo excitedly.

“Professor?” Myungsoo’s head shot up, realizing at once that the shadows also seemed less dark now. “Where did you go?”

 _Let’s just say unwelcome visitors are forcing themselves upon me. I would appreciate it very much if you stopped dawdling and getting yourselves lost and came home_ now, _please._

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Myungsoo breathed, unbelievably relieved. “Sungyeol, come on!”

They’d gone almost double the distance down the wrong passages and taken wrong turns, and making up for lost time was their only thought. Myungsoo was sure that their hands and knees were worn ragged by now, scraping their way along the tunnels for stability and stumbling ever so often upon the slippery rocks and loose stone, but that only served as further motivation. They had to get back so that Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary could bind up their cuts and bruises till they were brand new again. They needed to get back so that they could fly once more and compete for the House Cup. They needed to get back so that he could see Luna and Junghwan again, and so that Woohyun could fly into hysterics at the thought of what he’d done to get Sungyeol back – he knew Gryffindors could never trust a Slytherin, much less Snape who was chief Slytherin. They needed to get back so that he could see his parents again and Sungyeol’s mother and father and brother could breathe easy once more. They needed to get back so that he could thank Snape – how he was going to do that, he’d work out later. Maybe he’d study extra hard for his Potions final. They had to get back so that they could go to classes; yes, even Potions. At this point he’d be happy if his only class was Potions and he had to see Professor Snape eight hours a day every day of the week.

Things were starting to look familiar, inasmuch as dark wet stone could look familiar – if he wasn’t wrong, just up ahead was –

*

The door burst open with a scream of stone, fragments flying inwards at the final destructive blast and shaking the very floor. Professor McGonagall stood in the gaping hole like an avenging angel, the words of incarceration leaving her lips before she even stepped into the room.

Dust settled like a ghostly white blanket on the two boys lying on the table, surrounded by Snape’s books of dark magic he had used to create his magic to put Myungsoo in Limbo and the bowl of Myungsoo’s blood sitting by Myungsoo’s unconscious head. Snape had been knocked off his feet by McGonagall’s Petrificus Totalus and Incarcerous and was lying stiff behind the table where he’d fallen.

The others stumbled into the room, identical gasps at the sight that lay before them. Snape’s wand that he had dipped in Myungsoo’s blood lay forgotten on the table, the blood staining the centuries-old wood, and the pallor of Sungyeol’s skin next to Myungsoo’s lifeless body only added to the ghastly picture.

“You fucker, what have you done-” Woohyun rushed Snape only to be seized and yanked backwards by Dongwoo and Sunggyu. Howon surveyed the room from under furrowed brows, turning back to exchange an unreadable look with Sunggyu. Madam Pomfrey rushed over to Sungyeol and Myungsoo to take their pulses –

“They’re alive,” she announced, looking back at McGonagall and Flitwick anxiously as the other two teachers converged on the two unconscious boys. Sungjong, forgotten amidst the chaos and Woohyun’s furious struggling, peered into one of Snape’s books where it was lying open and then the other, slow frown forming on his face.

“We have to get them out of here now. St Mungo’s might know what to do with them,” Madam Pomfrey suggested insistently. “You can interrogate him in the meanwhile, find out what he’s done with them.”

Everything happened in a few moments that seemed to stretch into eternity. Woohyun pretended to stop fighting, and then while Dongwoo was beginning to let his guard down he snaked a hand into Dongwoo’s robes and grabbed his wand. Sungjong looked up from Snape’s book, urgent words already forming on his lips when he saw Woohyun’s arm coming up. It took only one panicked cry from him for Howon to reach over and knock Woohyun’s aim at Snape off-course, the spell ricocheting off a shelf high near the ceiling. Sunggyu wrestled Woohyun down to the ground and Sungjong was then free to tell Howon what was in Snape’s book – they both darted over to Snape the same instant Myungsoo and Sungyeol opened their eyes and sat up in a panic. Madam Pomfrey cried out in shock as Sungyeol and Myungsoo scrabbled to find each other’s hand, still seeing dark shadows and feeling cold stone under their hands as they’d run unthinkingly for the touchkey, diving for it as the whispering closed in on them.

There was absolute silence as everyone stared at the two of them, Myungsoo gasping in gratitude when he began to realize where he was. He took Sungyeol’s face in his hands and stroked his hair, his clothes, his chest – reassuring himself that Sungyeol was indeed truly here with him and finally pulling Sungyeol to him and hugging him tight, the two of them half-laughing and half-crying in relief as the others looked on in total shock.

Woohyun had gone limp in Sunggyu’s restraining arms, disbelief etched on his face as he stared at his best friend sitting up and awake for the first time in almost a week. Sunggyu let him get slowly to his feet, and passed him to Dongwoo, the fight clearly gone out of him and Snape now the last thing on Woohyun’s mind. Sunggyu turned his attention to his housemaster, Sungjong and Howon taking the liberty of quietly ending McGonagall’s enchantments on him where Snape lay and helping him to sit up.

“You were helping them, weren’t you, Professor?” Sungjong asked in a low voice as Sunggyu joined them behind the large wooden table. “Your books – those spells are of searching and binding. I don’t recognize them all, of course, but your notes in the margin on Limbo and resuscitation-”

Snape pushed Howon’s hands off him, but not unkindly. “I’m sure your dear Professor Flitwick will have something very cutting to say about one of his innocent students looking into books of dark magic,” Snape drawled, fixing Sungjong with a hard look. “The least said the better.”

“I never took you for a softie,” Sungjong said then, small grin forming at the look of absolute horror on Snape’s face at what was probably the first time anyone in their right mind had ever called him a softie.

“We tried to stop them, sir,” Sunggyu told him nervously. “We tried our best, but the Headmistress is very strong.”

“I expect you didn’t let her know you were working against her?”

“Of course not,” Howon said, as if offended. “She was using us as a conduit, so we tried to block the magic from going through us to the stone of your quarters. I’m sorry we didn’t succeed, sir.”

Snape let his gaze linger on Sunggyu and Howon for a few moments and then nodded, the two Slytherins beaming as if they had just received the highest of praise. Sungjong smiled secretly to see them, wondering if the Headmistress would ever figure out why it had taken them so long to break into Snape’s apartment. Slytherins were a strange lot, to be sure, but you could never say they weren’t loyal.

“Isn’t someone going to tell me what’s been going on here?” McGonagall demanded, utterly incredulous.

“Professor Snape helped us, Headmistress,” Myungsoo said quickly, looking around for him. “He found a way for me to go and get Sungyeol back. Professor?”

Snape grunted from the floor, Myungsoo’s brows knitting at why he was there as he peered over the edge of the massive table. Snape merely waved a not-a-little-annoyed hand at him.

“I don’t understand, the curse-”

“They need rest now, Minerva,” Madam Pomfrey interrupted firmly. “All explanations can be had in the morning. They’re both alive and fine. That’s enough for now.”

Myungsoo finally let Sungyeol go as he noticed Woohyun hovering nearby, wondering if he was in for a shouting match. Madam Pomfrey was fussing over the two of them, checking them for injuries apart from their obvious cuts and scrapes, and the other two teachers had gone over to Snape, serious faces still at the sight of the obvious paraphernalia of the darkest of magics sitting in broad daylight all around them. Myungsoo met Woohyun’s eyes hesitantly.

“Is that true? You got him back from – wherever he was?”

Myungsoo nodded, opening his mouth to say that he hadn’t done it alone, he had Snape’s help all along, but unexpectedly was grabbed in the tightest of hugs.

Sungyeol looked a little put-out that he wasn’t the first one Woohyun hugged, but the look of utmost surprise on Myungsoo’s face was enough to make him laugh and Myungsoo never wanted to stop hearing Sungyeol laugh. Sungyeol was soon enough covered in a puppy-pile of Dongwoo and Woohyun, both fighting to get a piece of him.

“Sleep. Now.” Madam Pomfrey ordered, Flitwick helping her to drive the students firmly out of the room.

Myungsoo looked back once before Flitwick began to repair Snape’s door behind them, letting himself be herded out. He managed to catch Snape’s eye as Snape lowered himself into a chair to start his explanations to a sombre-faced McGonagall. Myungsoo halted, Sungyeol looking round to see why Myungsoo had stopped.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Snape and McGonagall both looked up at Myungsoo’s raised voice, his gaze trained on Snape’s face that only now began to show signs of great weariness. “Thank you for helping us.”

“Be off with you,” Snape grumbled, turning his head away.

Myungsoo turned back, taking Sungyeol’s hand, and walked all the way to the infirmary together before collapsing into an empty bed, asleep before his head touched the pillow.

* 

Life went back to normal – life has a funny way of doing that.

Woohyun stood up in the middle of Potions and apologized in front of everyone for calling Snape a fucker and not trusting Myungsoo (which was news to Myungsoo, though not very surprising), the most Woohyun thing he could have done. Sungyeol tried to explain to Myungsoo about Woohyun’s sense of honour and making amends for his pride and impulsiveness, but Myungsoo just put it down secretly to general Gryffindor strangeness. Professor Snape was actually dumbfounded for a moment after Woohyun’s declaration, and resorted to the one thing he knew how to do – Woohyun now had another twenty feet of parchment on ‘an essay of his choice’ though Myungsoo would have given good money to have known which choice curse words had run through Snape’s mind when Woohyun then thanked him for the punishment.

He’d gone back to Snape’s apartment a day later to try to thank Snape properly and was shooed out a minute later, Snape saying he had no time for sniveling students; Myungsoo let himself be chased out, big smile playing on his lips he didn’t try to hide. The door had opened again a second later, Snape throwing him a small object that he barely caught. It was a small key that Snape didn’t bother explaining. Myungsoo asked Junghwan to make him a little loop out of yarn and hung the key from the canopy of his four-poster, feeling comforted every time he looked at it. He didn’t understand what it was, or why Snape had given it to him, but so many inexplicable things had happened to him that he felt one more couldn’t hurt. He was beginning to think of it as his lucky charm.

The next few days passed in a flurry of parents’ visits, long talks and revelations. Myungsoo saw his parents off at Hogsmeade, mind laden with all he had learned about who he really was and who the lady who’d helped him in Limbo had to be – he had no definite answers, but there couldn’t be any other explanation. How do you begin to piece together a past that you’d only found out about now? Why his mother was stuck in Limbo – he had an inkling, but he didn’t want to think about that. _How different his life could have been_ , he thought. It was surreal.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Sungyeol said, nudging Myungsoo’s shoulder with his.

The weather was turning ever colder now that winter was well and truly upon them, and they were walking bundled up in their coats along one of the many towers Hogwarts had to offer. Myungsoo had never really gotten over the fact that he went to school in a _castle_ – so much better than his normal Muggle primary school where the swings didn’t fly and the stairs always stayed in the same place. So whenever he could he dragged Sungyeol up and down the towers and around the dungeons to be stared at by Slytherins, around the Black Lake to catch a glimpse of the giant squid and marvel at his very own magical castle. The fact that he got to do it with Sungyeol who was content to let him look and sneakily hold his hand as he did it was the very best bonus he could think of.

“Nothing. Everything,” he turned to Sungyeol with a smile. “I still can’t believe how close we came to losing you.”

“You have no idea how much it pains me that Snape was the one I have to owe part of my life to,” Sungyeol told him wryly. “I can’t even not pay attention in classes anymore. He just has to give me this _look_ and I know exactly what he’s thinking.”

“I’d go for a million Potions classes in order for Snape to save you all over again. _And_ Divination.” Myungsoo told him, bumping Sungyeol’s shoulder back. “Yeol, can I ask you something?”

Sungyeol waited, expression open as always as Myungsoo fidgeted. Finally he took pity on Myungsoo and answered the question he knew Myungsoo was dying to ask him for days but hadn’t worked up the courage to verbalise yet.

“No, Myungsoo, I don’t blame you for what happened. ‘Really, Yeol?’ Yes, really. ‘Not at all?’ No, not at all.”

Myungsoo batted at him sheepishly, knowing it was silly but needing to hear the words. “My voice isn’t that high-pitched,” he complained, thankful that with every day that passed the memories of what had happened in Limbo and the sight of Sungyeol bleeding out his life onto the floor of that classroom became less and less emblazoned in his mind.

“’And you know what, Yeol?’ What, Myungsoo? ‘I would really like you to kiss me now.’ Okay, Myungsoo!” Sungyeol continued, ending by puckering up his lips and lowering his head conveniently so that Myungsoo could reach him easily.

Myungsoo hesitated – he couldn’t help it. It would be the first time they’d kissed since they’d made the record books for the most terrible first kiss in history, and Myungsoo really didn’t want to feature once more for the most terrible second kiss in history as well. He _knew_ the curse had been broken, _knew_ that even if he didn’t trust himself he trusted Snape – what a strange feeling that was – and so if Snape said that everything was alright, then everything was alright. And yet –

Sungyeol stepped forward and kissed him, looping his arms loosely around Myungsoo to allow for the puffiness of their winter coats. Myungsoo’s nose and lips were cold, as were Sungyeol’s, but as they kissed their warm breath clouding out between them slowly warmed their skin. Sungyeol felt Myungsoo slowly relax against and into him, hands wriggling their way into Sungyeol’s open coat and away from the cold air. Sungyeol made an involuntary noise at the feel of Myungsoo’s icy fingers holding his sides, and Myungsoo laughed softly against his mouth.

“See, I’m fine,” Sungyeol whispered, drawing back to rest his forehead against Myungsoo’s. “We could stand here kissing until we both turned into oak trees and I’d still be fine.”

“You have a strange standard of fine if you think being an oak tree is fine,” Myungsoo bantered, not caring about the nonsense he was saying as long as Sungyeol kept kissing him. They sipped from each other as they laughed and bickered back and forth, little kisses and nips both chaste and suggestive as they made up for a little bit more of lost time.

There was still a lot more to think about yet, a lot more to talk through as they both healed in their own ways, but kissing – kissing was definitely helping.

*


End file.
